


Toddlers and Tiar- Tantrums. Toddlers and Tantrums.

by RussianSunflower3



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bakery, Iwaizumi and Oikawa are their kids, Kidfic, Kindergarten drama, M/M, Parent AU, matsuhana parents, more families and characters to be added along the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8356087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Hanamaki and Matsukawa are married and live a peaceful, happy life with no problems whatsoever.Yeah, right.Their adopted kids - Tooru (2) and Hajime (3) - are definitely not letting them get enough peace and quiet.





	1. Sweetheart, babycakes, love.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon/gifts), [queerbatnana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerbatnana/gifts).



Life with two children was never peaceful or quiet. Especially not when those children were aged 2 and 3 respectively. Hanamaki should have expected as much when he nestled under the covers, ready to sleep when a sudden wail shattered his mood of relaxation. Matsukawa was putting the children to bed, but as per usual, Tooru only wanted to play and Hajime was too stubborn to sleep. Getting them to bed when they were _both_ grumpy? That was not a one person job. Sighing, he dragged himself from the bed and stumbled into the kids room, where Matsukawa was wrestling to settle a wailing Tooru whilst also trying to stop Hajime climbing out his cot. Swiftly, Hanamaki swept Tooru from Matsukawa’s arms and held him up in the air, making swooshing noises and ‘flying’ him around the room.

“Whoosh! There’s my little man! Zoom, all the way to the airport!” 

“Airpor’! Airpor’!” He swings the now-giggling 2 year old around in a circle before safely landing him in the cot. Tooru yawns wide and squeaky, curling up on the soft mattress and closing his eyes.

“Pwane landed. Night night.” Hanamaki chuckles warmly as he tucks Tooru in, leaning over the edge of the cot to kiss his cheek and then nudge his teddy bear closer. Tooru giggles and grips it tightly before he settles to sleep. Which is more than can be said for Hajime.

“Time to sleep, Hajime.”

“No.”

“Please, Hajime?”

“No.” The second Matsukawa goes to lie Hajime down, the 3 year old shrieks and starts kicking and flailing his arms. A tantrum, great. Just what they need just before bedtime. Matsukawa sighs and sternly molds his face into an expressionless frown, placing Hajime in the cot, and starting the mobile up above. No matter how much Hajime kicks and screams, his attention is always drawn back to the stars and planets spinning gently above his head, a dainty and soft tune unconsciously relaxing him until his wide eyes are fixed on the mobile and he’s being tucked in without realising. With a smug smile, Matsukawa pulls up the hood of Hajime’s pyjama onesie - A little bear outfit! So cute! - and plants a tiny kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Hajime.”

“Night, papa…” The damp teartracks on his cheeks are brushed off by a tender thumb, and then green eyes close, the three year old drifting off with the lullaby of the mobile in his ears. For a moment, Hanamaki and Matsukawa both hold their breaths. Anything can happen at this stage, and they half expect Hajime to stubbornly sit up again and climb out his cot, or Tooru to wake up, whine, and whimper if they dare try leaving.

At 2 years old, Tooru swings unexpectedly between being fiercely independent, or completely reliant upon his parents. At 3, however, Hajime is much more demanding about doing things _his_ way, or not at all. It makes for a lot of tantrums and stubbornness, so Hanamaki is hoping he’ll grow out of it soon. An arm snakes around his waist and pulls him close, dry lips pressing to the corner of his mouth. Snickering, he pushes Matsukawa off just enough to tilt his head and close the distance between them for a sweet, brief kiss.

“Come on, time for us to sleep now~.” Hanamaki groans like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard, loosely gripping Matsukawa’s wrist and tugging him towards their bedroom. Perhaps this time last year, other… Activities~... Would have followed the bedtime routine, but since taking in Tooru and trying to raise their suddenly misbehaving first child, exhaustion had replaced any kind of flame or spark of desire. They didn’t regret anything though. 

Even if the walls had permanent crayon stains, and they had to make different meals at the same time, or they got stuck with kids programmes… There wasn’t a single thing they regretted in their decision to adopt Hajime, and later on, adopt Tooru. They were so drastically different too, unique in their own ways which only make Hanamaki and Matsukawa love them more.

Hajime was quiet and shy, and until Tooru had entered the household, placid and unnaturally calm. He had been quite content to play by himself as long as one of his parents was nearby. If not, he would whimper and quietly cry until they returned and then ask for cuddles. At first, Hanamaki had been really worried about his development, but a trip to the pediatrician had confirmed that Hajime just had a slow understanding of object permanence, caused by events before his adoption. If he couldn’t see his parents, he thought they had left him forever. A lot of love and a little experimenting had quickly solved that problem, although it didn’t take away his shyness around strangers.

Tooru, the complete opposite, was loud, friendly, and a ball of sunshine. A ball of very temperamental sunshine. His mood could flip 180 in the blink of an eye, going from his energetic and cheerful self to a literal demon. He could be playing nicely alongside someone, happy and giggling, and then be throwing toys at them whilst screeching up a fit. Sometimes, it was unpredictable, and Matsukawa had mentioned they needed to be careful who he played with. Some kids he would just turn on like they’d flipped a demonic little switch in him, and others were too small for his rough, determined way of playing. He loved airplanes, and had accidentally elbowed one of his playmates in the face twice now…

Recently, however, they had both undergone massive changes. Tooru had settled into the home and become a hell of a lot cuter - in Hanamaki’s opinion - singing to himself in babbling nonsense and playing with his toys in a world only he could imagine. He loved cuddles, and bubble baths, and singing whilst being cuddled in a bubble bath. He was starting to learn awareness of others and waddling around on unsteady legs to impress people, as well as imitating things on TV like children’s dances and games. 

Hajime seemed to have taken a step backwards, or at least in the wrong direction. He seemed constantly grumpy and upset, refusing to communicate properly if he didn’t want to share his thoughts, and threw tantrums on the regular. Matsukawa said it was just his age. Hanamaki wasn’t so sure. He didn’t even play with the toys they got him. Trikes and balls and skipping ropes were left neglected in the toy cupboard whilst he would sit in a corner and just watch Tooru playing with his parents, maybe colouring at the same time. His pictures used to be so bright and beautiful, but now… They couldn’t even go on the fridge, all black and red and _angry_.

“Hiro, I can hear you thinking from here~.” Matsukawa yawned against the back of his neck and Hanamaki giggled at the ticklish spread of warm air. His smile wobbled and dropped into a thin line of concern.

“Mhm. I’m worried about the kids.” There’s an uneasy pause where he knows Matsukawa is thinking deeply, and that stirs up a disturbed whirl of emotions in his belly. Usually, Matsukawa would comfort him right off the bat. If he was stopping to think, then Hanamaki’s worries were justified. Gentle lips trailed from his collarbone to his ear reassuringly, before Matsukawa whispered;

“It’s just sibling rivalry, sweetheart. They’ll sort it out themselves.”

“...Okay. Okay, yeah, you’re right.” 

“Love you ‘Hiro. G’night.”

“Love you too, babycakes. Sweet dreams.”

“Always sweet when I’m with you.” The muttered words are all Matsukawa manages before sleep claims him, his breathing evening out and his arm around Hanamaki’s waist slowly loosening as his muscles relax. For fifteen minutes, Hanamaki lies in the silence, eyes closed and fingers interlocked with Matsukawa’s, trying to fall asleep himself. Suddenly, he bolts up, throwing Matsukawa and the covers back unintentionally. Matsukawa’s shriek of surprise and the thud when he hits the floor goes unheard under Hanamaki’s proclamation.

“That’s it! Hajime is _jealous_! That’s why he’s misbehaving - to get our attention!” Matsukawa groans into the floorboards and Hanamaki nervously giggles, leaning over the side of the bed.

“Sorry, love.”


	2. Boats and duckies and another tantrum.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dangerous development has Matsukawa stepping in and taking control.

The next morning, they make a big decision to switch up the morning routine. Usually, they’d get Hajime ready first, and let him eat breakfast alone whilst they get Tooru ready. Beforehand, they’d been sure Hajime liked the alone time - the peace and quiet he seemed to have craved before Tooru’s arrival. After Hanamaki’s revelation last night, they’d come to the conclusion that they were drastically wrong. Hajime liked his quiet time, yes, but he liked it when someone was _there_. 

Henceforth, today, they would be getting the children ready together. Matsukawa would get Tooru ready, since Hanamaki had put him to bed last night, and Hanamaki would get Hajime ready, since he was better at dealing with the three year olds morning lethargy. Sharing a glance as they stood by the sides of the cots, Matsukawa nodded and Hanamaki exhaled deeply. Time to try this out. Matsukawa leans over the side of the cot and runs his hand through Tooru’s thick yet soft hair. 

“Tooru~. Come on baby, time to wake up.” The two year old whines, groggy with sleep, as he blinks open his beautiful brown eyes. As soon as he realises it’s Matsukawa leaning over his crib, he breaks out into a sleepy smile and makes grabby hands up at him.

“Papa, papa, up…”

“Up we go, my little prince~.” Tooru giggles as Matsukawa lifts him up under the arms, stretching up as far as he can go before pulling Tooru in against his chest. The two year old snuggles in, arms around Matsukawa’s neck and face buried in his collarbone as he rubs crusted sleep from his eyes onto the light grey shirt Matsukawa is wearing.

“Oi, you! Don’t get papa all dirty!” Despite the scolding words, his tone is bright and airy, filled with mirth and amusement as Tooru pulls away with a giggle.

“Sorry papa!” He brushes the ‘dirty’ spot with clumsy little hands and then pats it as if he’s successfully brushed away the crusty remains of sleep. Matsukawa blows a raspberry against his cheek which sends the little ones into fits of squeals and laughter, before an angry screech interrupts them. Tooru whips his head around to where it came from, and Matsukawa sighs when he sees Hanamaki _still_ trying to wake Hajime. He’s buried himself under his blanket and pillow, refusing to let go as Hanamaki tries to gently tug it off.

“Swap?” Hanamaki sighs and nods, turning around to take Tooru into his own arms. Usually, he’s better at getting Hajime up in the morning, but it seems like today, he’s throwing a tantrum from the first waking moment. Tantrums are Matsukawa’s area. He deals with them quickly and effectively, his calm, gently voice but firm manner of speaking somehow extinguishing all that anger in Hajime’s little heart. He crouches down by the side of the cot, waiting for Hajime to turn over and look at him. He always does, in the end. Even if it means letting him exhaust himself first.

“... Go ‘way!” Resting his arms over his crouching legs and putting his chin in his palm, Matsukawa makes it very clear that he’s going nowhere, and Hajime peeks over at him and understands this. So he does what any three year old would in this situation. He sits up, picks up the pillow he was hiding under, and throws it. Towards Matsukawa. Of course, the cot bars are in the way, but it doesn’t stop Matsukawa flinching backwards. Hajime has throw things before, but never directed _at_ his parents. 

This has to stop _**now**_ , before it starts becoming a dangerous habit. 

“Hajime, stop.” There’s a cold edge to his voice, and the interruption stuns Hajime into silence because he’d usually wear himself out before Matsukawa would ask him why he was angry or upset and comfort him. This wasn’t normal. Of course, being three, he doesn’t really recognise the routine of his tantrums, but he does know this is different. This is scary.

“P-Papa…?”

“You _don’t_ throw things. Someone could get hurt.” Hajime shrinks back, hugging his blanket close and nodding.

“I’m sorry. Papa hurt?” Matsukawa hummed in affirmation and nodded, because even though he wasn’t physically hurt, seeing Hajime so troubled really was a punch to the stomach. Guiltily, Hajime shuffled in his cot and hugged his blanket tighter, hiding his little tearstricken face in the material. Matsukawa bit his bottom lip and slowly reached through the bars of the cot to rub his son’s back, shushing him gently as Hajime’s shoulders shook and he cried quietly into his blanket.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I should have told you a long time ago… No more throwing things, okay?” Hajime hiccuped as he nodded, letting his blanket go in favour of crawling over to the bars, holding his arms up like Tooru did when he wanted up. Pushing himself back to his feet, Matsukawa reached down and picked him up, holding him close and tight. There was no doubt that Hajime was a very sensitive child, but he was going to grow up kind and strong. Matsukawa knew it. He could almost sense it intuitively. 

“Okay, papa. No more throwing.”

“Good boy.” He pat Hajime’s back until he had calmed down, but unlike Tooru who woke up with cuddles, the three year old clung to the warmth and his body grew heavy against Matsukawa as he drifted into a very light sleep.

“Hey, come on, you~. My little bear cub. My cookie dough roll. Little light of my life. Wakey wakey~.” A muffled grunt of exhaustion was his answer and he rolled his eyes with an amused smile. He carried Hajime through to the bathroom, where Hanamaki already had Tooru in a shallow, lukewarm bath with lots of bubbles and foam in his hair as he laughed and played with a toy boat and a rubber duck. Hanamaki looked up from foaming up Tooru’s hair as Matsukawa entered, a soft and loving smile on his lips when he saw Hajime sleepily curled up against his husband’s chest. 

“Need some help?”

“Yeah, kinda hard to hold him and undress him at the same time.” Hanamaki laughs and then comes over to scoop Hajime into his own arms, cooing softly as the three year old whines. Exhaling through his nose in amusement, Matsukawa wrestles Hajime’s tiny, chubby arms and legs out of the bear onesie before pulling it away with flair. He steals a kiss from Hanamaki in the process and chucks the onesie aside to remove the night time pants Hajime wears, in case of leaks. Tooru wasn’t quite up to that stage yet, still wearing nappies because he was more likely to have accidents. 

“There we go.” 

“Thanks, darling~.” Hanamaki lowers Hajime into the bathwater, keeping an arm wrapped around his back whilst he slowly wakes up, just until he can sit up on his own. He rubs at his eyes with a heavy pout and frown, and Tooru twists around in the bathtub to grin and giggle at him. When Tooru starts pushing the little toy boat around, Hajime bolts up like he was never sleepy in the first place.

“Th-That’s mine, Tooru!” He reaches forwards to snatch it away but Tooru is quicker, holding the toy boat to his chest and screeching. 

“I want! Mine!”

“No! Stupid Tooru, Stupid! It’s mine!” 

“If you’re going to argue, _neither_ of you are going to have it.” Hanamaki plucks the toy boat from the water and holds it out of reach, the babies staring at him in utter betrayal. Internally, he smugly thinks he’s made the right decision, but then; Disaster.

Both their eyes well up with tears and Hanamaki has just enough time to whisper _”oh no”_ under his breath before the bathroom echoes the wails of his children.


	3. Breakfast

“Ngn… I should have known not to do that whilst they were still waking up…” Matsukawa laughs from his place in the kitchen, making omurice for breakfast. It isn’t exactly difficult or skillful, but Tooru had cheerfully demanded it after bath time, and was sitting in his high chair reading a picture book as he kicked his legs and hummed. Currently, he was only in a nappy, seeing as they would get dressed after breakfast. That had been a lesson the parents had learnt early on. 

Hanamaki glances over to the sofa where Hajime sits cross-legged, towel around his shoulders, and bright eyes fixed on the screen. His entire expression is awe and admiration, a breathless gasp escaping him as the hero on-screen defeats the villain. Oh no… Wait… He reevaluates the screen and realises the _villain_ just defeated the _**hero**_. Well. That’s not a good sign, is it. The hero stands back up, and Hajime’s shoulders slump, the sparkle leaves his eyes and he turns the TV off. 

“H-Hey, bud, you okay?”

“Cosmo rangers are dumb. They’re stupid.”

“Really? I think they’re cool.” Hajime gives Hanamaki a stink-eye that he wouldn’t have expected any three year old to master, and he holds back a laugh before Hajime looks dejectedly back down at the remote.

“The kaiju should win… They- They’re stronger! And cooler! Fighting a kaiju would cause ouchies, not- not cosmo ranger winning!” His limited vocabulary makes it hard to get his point across, but Hanamaki understands. And strangely, he can 100% agree with Hajime. But as a responsible parent™, he has to somehow ensure his child listens to Cosmo Ranger and the ideals he spreads, like sharing and consideration, as well as giving second chances and listening to parents. 

“W-Well, uh… Did you know… Umm… Cosmo Ranger is _secretly_ a Kaiju!” Now he has Hajime’s attention. At first, he looks amazed. And then his face screws up with confusion.

“No he isn’t. He’s too small.”

“It’s a disguise. See, if he was big, the bad guys would think he was really strong and fight him seriously. But when he looks little, they think they can just step on him.” 

“... How can a kaiju look like a human?”

“It’s… Umm… Oh, Papa knows this one, why don’t you ask him?” He hears Matsukawa growl under his breath, something like _“Why you little-”_ , and throws a cheeky grin his way as Hajime kneels on the sofa and looks over the top of it, the towel slipping to his legs. Hanamaki pulls it back up so Hajime doesn’t catch a cold whilst the toddler excitedly babbles out his question across the room so Matsukawa can hear it over the hissing of the omurice in the pan, and Tooru’s singing as he ‘reads’. Matsukawa humms with thought as he flips the omurice over and then plates it up, putting it in front of Tooru to eat before coming over to the sofa and leaning on the back of it, next to where Hajime peeks over the top.

“Cosmo Ranger has a star on his outfit, right?”

“Ya-huh…”

“That star is magic. It makes him look really small and like a human. But- uh- if he ever loses the star, he’ll look like a Kaiju again.” Hajime looks dubious. He thinks. He frowns. And then his eyes light up and he gasps and runs to his box of toys in the corner. He tips it upside down making a massive mess, and grabs his Cosmo Ranger toy from the pile, running it over to Matsukawa.

“Take- Take the star off, Papa! Take the star off!” A majorly panicked look is shot Hanamaki’s way and he barely holds back a snigger at the deep grave Matsukawa has dug himself. 

“Uhh, Hajime? Toys don’t- Toy’s don’t change shape, so…” He trails off at the perfect puppy-dog eyes beaming up at him, Hajime’s bottom lips wobbling.

“... If we take it off now, he’ll change overnight!” He lights up like a christmas tree, passing the toy over with such enthusiasm that he would have toppled over the sofa if Hanamaki hadn’t lunged to catch him. Matsukawa fiddles with the toy regretfully until the star comes off and passes Cosmo Ranger back to Hajime, before turning to check Tooru has finished eating. 

The omurice is certainly finished. Oh, it’s definitely finished and the plate is clean. Tooru, on the other hand, is _not_. He is far from clean. He is the furthest from clean he’s ever been. Groaning, Matsukawa’s heart sinks and Hanamaki peers over at the reaction, bursting into laughter almost immediately. There’s rice grains all over Tooru’s face and hair, soggy omelette on his lap in the high chair, and just general _mess_.

“Tooru! You’re supposed to eat it, not _wear_ it!” Hanamaki laughs as he pushes himself off the sofa, walking over to Tooru and scooping him up from the high chair.

“Let’s get some wipes and clean you up, silly~.” Tooru giggles and smooshes some rice on Hanamaki’s cheeks.

“Papa! We match!” Hanamaki gasps with faux delight, as if he’s just been adorned with jewels instead of sticky rice.

“You’re right, we do! Such a clever idea, Tooru~!” Giggling in delight, the two year old even beams as Hanamaki scrubs their faces with wet wipes, making sure no food remained. Getting it out of Tooru’s _hair_ was a little harder, but he managed it eventually. 

“Ta-da! All clean.”

“Clean! I clean!”

“Yes, you are~. Now, let’s get dressed, yes?” For a moment, nothing happens. Then, Tooru pouts, shuffles, and looks down at the floor guiltily.

“I- I wan’ papa…” Hanamaki deflates into a frown like a balloon. Okay, so he isn’t the most fashion forwards out of his family and friends, but being rejected by a _toddler_? That was just insulting. Still, he supposes he can somehow bargain with Hajime into letting him dress at least one of his children. After all, there was nothing Hanamaki loved more than putting his tiny ones in cute outfits and costumes. He loved them with all his heart, and seeing them dressed as little farmers or samurai or in animal onesies was one of the perks of parenthood. Not the biggest one, of course, but he loved it. If Tooru was getting old enough that he was actively protesting Hanamaki dressing him, then the time he had left was short. Soon, his children would be dressing _themselves_ , and that was a scary thought.

“Okay, let’s go get papa.” Tooru beams with a little squeal and jumps into Hanamaki’s waiting arms, snuggling against his chest and pressing a wet, slobbery smooch to his cheek.

“Wuv you, papa!” With a little laugh, Hanamaki carries Tooru back into the living room where the TV is now off. From the quiet murmuring of voices, he can Hajime must be helping Matsukawa in the kitchen. 

“Chop, chop, chop. Into the pot.” 

“Issei, you better not be letting Hajime play with knives!” He’s pleasantly surprised and definitely relieved when he walks into the kitchen and Matsukawa is the one with the knife, Hajime scooping up the finished squares and putting them into a lightly simmering pot on the stove. Hanamaki sighs and comes over to Matsukawa’s side, ruffling Hajime’s hair before putting his arm around Matsukawa’s waist. They share a sweet, short kiss. 

“Tooru wants you to dress him, muffin~.”

“Alright, cupcake, let me just-...” Matsukawa nudges Hajime away from the pot and turns the heat up to a gentle roar. He warns Hajime that it’s hot, that he mustn’t touch it, and should call for help if it starts to get ‘really super bubbly’. Hajime salutes, and stands on his little footstool to intensely watch the pot. Still, as Matsukawa takes Tooru from Hanamaki’s arms, he leans over to whisper to him.

“Keep an eye on him. He tried turn it on by himself earlier.”

“Yikes. That could’ve ended badly.”

“Mhm. A little independance is good, but…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch him. Go get Tooru dressed.” With a soft hum of agreement, Matsukawa adjusts his grip on a squirming toddler and carts him up the stairs. Tooru babbles musical nonsense as he plays with Matsukawa’s hair, twirling the strands around his tiny, chubby fingers with focus and awe. Matsukawa laughs airily, if only because Tooru is so fascinated and gentle, it’s like he’s _enchanted_. There’s nothing magical about his hair though, Matsukawa swears. It’s just the usual shampoo, condition, towel-dry, forget to brush. 

“Papa, wan’ boots!”

“Boots?”

“Mhm~! Pwetty star boots!” Tooru throws his arms up in the air as he announces his love for the cowboy style boots with little yellow stars on the side, and Matsukawa chuckles, ruffling Tooru’s soft, brown hair.

“Alright, we’ll put your boots on last, okay? Let’s take a look at your wardrobe, hmm?” The two year old gasps dramatically, as if his wardrobe is a treasure chest of untold bounty.

“Yes!” The doors open to reveal tons of tiny clothes in a vast array of colours and patterns. The right hand side is Hajime’s, and filled mostly with dark greens and vivid reds, with some denim and black inbetween. Tooru’s side is much brighter, yellows and pinks and bright blues. He has a few denim and darker colours too, but much, much less than his older brother.

“Let’s go with… Dungarees?” Tooru nods with determination and steps up on his little stool to rummage through his shirt selection. He pulls out a plain white shirt before sliding it back in carefully, putting his hand on his chin and stroking a mock moustache like he’s seen on the morning cartoons. Matsukawa stifles a laugh as he watch Tooru staring into the cupboard with a narrowed glare. He straightens up with a smiles as he _launches_ himself in the wardrobe and re-appears with a checkered, mint-blue button up shirt.

“This one, papa!”

“Ooh, good choice.” It’s a little bright, and it might clash with the denim, but it’s Tooru’s choice, and Matsukawa isn’t about to rain on his tiny, happy parade. Tooru holds his arms up for the sleeves to be tugged down onto him, and Matsukawa buttons up the shirt as Tooru happily hums, swinging from side to side.

“Doing a little dance?”

“Yup! Happy dance!” He wriggles and giggles as Matsukawa watches him lovingly, so proud of his bright and cheerful son. He’d come a long way from when they’d first adopted him, shy and reserved. He’d been afraid to speak without prompting, and trailed behind them like a puppy as long as he had somewhere to hide behind if they turned to look. But smothering him with attention, affection, and soft encouragement had worked magic, and within a month or two, he seemed like a completely new child.

As Tooru stepped into his dungarees and Matsukawa helped him clip the straps on, he couldn’t help a gentle, bright smile. Tooru picked out some little white socks with yellow duckies on whilst Matsukawa wiped away a tear, caused by his overflowing love.

For Tooru and Hajime, he would fight the world.


	4. Same.

The walk to Tooru’s babysitter was a short one, but it took a long time. The main reason for this was because both children insisted on walking, despite the fact that Tooru was unsteady and clumsy, and Hajime got distracted by every little thing, especially bugs. Still, they were used to how slow the journey was now that Tooru was on his feet, so leaving the house early became part of their routine. Hanamaki pushed the empty pram, ready just in case they needed it. Tooru stumbled and almost fell, only his tight grip on Hanamaki’s hand keeping him upright. 

“You alright there, buddy?”

“I good!” He regained his footing and dusted himself off, pushing his chest out proudly as he continued wobbling onwards. Hanamaki sighed with a twinge of amusement, shaking his head as he continued his slow steps next to Tooru. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he saw Matsukawa and Hajime crouched in front of a tall plant, probably looking at some bug on the leaf. Matsukawa was flipping through a field guide for common insects in Japan, until he must have found what he was looking for, pointing at a picture on the page and reading quietly to Hajime as the boy nodded, intrigued in his little discovery. 

It’s such a cute and domestic scene, the corners of Hanamaki’s lips wobble upwards and threaten to break into a stupidly unattractive grin. Matsukawa always tells him he loves his grin, but… Hanamaki gets self-conscious in public, especially when his front teeth are slightly wonky.

“Papa?”

“Shh, sweetheart, we’re just waiting for Papa and Hajime.”

“Noooooo… Wanna keep walking. Wanna see Dai-tan and Yui-tan and Tada-chan!” Tooru stomps his foot impatiently, but before he can start whining properly or throwing a tantrum, Matsukawa joins them with Hajime tagging along behind him, gripping onto Matsukawa’s sleeve with one hand and clutching the book to his chest with the other.

“Crybaby Tooru.”

“A-Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are _too_.” Tooru was just about to screech and tackle Hajime when Hanamaki scooped him up.

“O- _kay_ , that is quite enough, thank you. Tooru, take a deep breath okay? Hajime, apologise to your brother. It’s very rude to call people crybabies.” Tooru stops wriggling in his arms and huffs, calming down, but all he gets from Hajime is a slightly confused look.

“But he _is_ a crybaby. And papa say to- to always tell the truth.” For a second, both Matsukawa and Hanamaki freeze. Hajime is right. They have been enforcing always telling the truth, but… Not in this way. They definitely didn’t expect the three year old to throw their words back in their faces. Hanamaki rubs the back of his head and holds Tooru out towards Matsukawa.

“I’ll talk with him. You two carry on?” The corners of Matsukawa’s lips twitch up into a smirk as he takes Tooru and then kneels down to put him in the pram.

“Well, we have to get there some time today. Meet you there.” As he starts walking off, talking quietly over the hood of the pram to try and cheer Tooru up, Hanamaki looks back to where Hajime is stubbornly standing, arms crossed with the book against his chest and his eyes directed to the floor, heavy pout on his lips. Hanamaki sighs heavily before gently running a hand through Hajime’s hair, prompting him to look up with wide, guilty eyes. He knows he’s done wrong, but he doesn’t know _why_.

“Hajime… Remember- Remember when Papa and I sat you down and talked about feelings and playing nice?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, sometimes… Sometimes that means _not_ saying the truth. Or not saying anything at all. If it hurts someone’s feelings, you mustn't say it.” Hajime shuffles, eyes growing wet and a quiet hiccup escaping.

“I- I sorry. I didn’t know…” He pulls Hajime in for a hug with another soft sigh, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“Shh, shh… You know now, and that’s what matters.”

“Ok-kay…”

“Shall we go and apologise to Tooru?”

“Mhm.” Hanamaki pulls out of the hug to smile, feeling warm inside when Hajime wipes at his eyes with his sleeves and sterns his face so it doesn’t look like he was just on the cusp of tears. He’s so strong, so determined, and so brave, Hanamaki loves his son with all his heart.

“Good boy.” Standing up straight, he offers out his hand. Hajime holds it gently. They walk in unison, Hanamaki swinging his arm a little and stopping at cracks in the pavement for Hajime to jump over. He gives a little ‘hup!’ as he jumps and skips and hops, so pure and innocent that Hanamaki can’t hide his grin anymore - no matter how wonky he thinks it is. He swings his arm with Hajime, walking almost musically in a squiggly line that makes Hajime giggle whenever he’s nearer to the edge and then suddenly back in the centre of the path. 

“Don’t step on the cracks, or- or, umm… Uh…” Playfully cackling, Hanamaki tickles his sides until Hajime squeals and snorts.

“Or the tickle monster will attack!” As Hajime wriggles and squeals and _laughs_ , with carefree abandon, Hanamaki wonders how long this happy little spell will last. It’s not that Hajime is a particularly spiteful, ruthless, and disobedient child… He’s just… Hit that sort of age? Perhaps? Matsukawa is still sticking by the “Terrible Twos and Tantrum Threes” theory, even though Hanamaki insists that it’s something to do with _Tooru_. It always seems like Hajime is sweet as sugar until his younger brother is around, and then he becomes bitter and angry and stroppy.

Maybe it’s their own fault, for smothering Tooru with so much affection and attention that they spoiled him, and poor, sweet Hajime was left to wonder why he was suddenly having to _share_ his Papa’s, with someone who got an unfair amount of time with them. The thought grinds Hanamaki to a halt and Hajime looks up at him with a curious and confused look.

“Papa?”

“Ha- Hajime… What do you think of Tooru?” Instantly, his little face sinks into a rigid pout, eyebrows furrowing into a tight and upset V. 

“He’s stinky. And dumb. And a crybaby!” 

“But- But you like him, right? He’s your little brother…”

“Can you send him back?” For a moment, Hanamaki is flabbergasted. He stammers and stutters, jaw opening and closing like a fish as Hajime fixes him with a blank stare. His chest hurts and head swarms because he knew his children fought a lot and snatched attention away from each other, but he didn’t realise it was _this_ bad. Did Tooru want to get rid of Hajime too? Is that why they were fighting? He sighs and closes his eyes to try and fight back the stinging water behind them.

“N-no, Hajime. We can’t send him back.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s family!”

“Why?”

“B-Because we adopted him…”

“Can you un-adopted him?”

“No!” He regrets raising his voice when Hajime flinches and tries to pull away, but Hanamaki softly pulls him back into the hug and nuzzles into his short, unruly hair.

“You- You and Tooru are _both_ my babies, Hajime. You’re my children, and I love you so, so much.” Little Hajime shuffles. He sniffles and hiccups. He scuffs the toe of his shoe against the ground shyly and nervously as his eyes well up and his voice cracks.

“E-Even if you love Tooru more…?” 

“... _What_!?” Hajime really does flinch this time, heavily. Hanamaki releases him so he can step back until he reaches what he feels is a safe distance, an arms length away. It’s important they still do this, even though Hajime has been with them over a year. That they let _him_ set the boundaries, and put up an imaginary safety bubble. Although the three year old does not remember much of his time before being adopted - or at least before the orphanage - he still carries scars and reflexes from his time as a defenceless baby. Guiltily, Hanamaki apologises for raising his voice and being scary.

“I love you both _the same_. And Papa does too. Hajime, my little cicada, you and Tooru are exactly equal to us. You’re both very different, but we love you all the same. Do- Do you understand?”

“P-Papa love Tooru… A-And Haji?” Hanamaki nods with a small smile. When Hajime refers to himself in third person, it generally mean he’s focus more on what the other person is saying, forgetting to concentrate on his ever-increasing grammar skills.

“Tooru _and_ Hajime. The same.”

“Same?”

“Same.”

“... Same.” They parrot back and forth for a minute or two, until the words sound just as solid coming from Hajime as they do from Hanamaki. His eyes are still wet and his nose is a little runny, but that’s just remnants from when he was ready to burst into tears. Hanamaki cleans him up with a tissue and they link hands again, jumping over the cracks in the pavement together and tickling the other when they accidentally step on a crack. 

It wasn’t perfect, and there were still lingering problems, but it was father-son time that they cherished together, and it was moments like these that would become the foundation for good memories when Hajime was were older.


	5. fall.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing a new family!

Tooru wrenched his hand away from Matsukawa as they approached a familiar house. In his little cowboy boots, he clumsily ran to the front door, only tripping once and pushing himself straight back up again. Matsukawa chuckled and carefully shut the front garden gate behind him, parking the pram by the doorstep, as Tooru knocked on the door with unrelenting excitement.

“I here! Dai-tan, Yui-tan, Tada-chan! I here, I here!” Matsukawa could hear footsteps from inside and Michimiya Yui brightly exclaiming _“Tooru’s here~!”_ before the front door was flung open and she bounced down to a crouch so she was eye-level with Tooru. She ruffled his hair and pinched his cute chubby cheeks as Tooru giggled and then threw himself at her for a hug.

“There’s my favourite little 2 year old!” From behind Yui, Daichi appears in the doorway with a warm chuckle, their 5 month old baby in his arms. At the moment, Tadashi is awake, but he looks on the cusp of sleep and doesn’t lift his head from Daichi’s shoulder as he waggles a hand in Matsukawa’s direction. Gently, Matsukawa reaches over and offers a finger for the baby to latch on. He coos greetings in the same way one would to a puppy, and it’s entirely worth it when Tadashi smiles with a little laughing sound.

“He’s growing up fast.”

“Mhm~. The first three years go by so quickly. In about three weeks, he’ll be on baby food instead of milk.”

“Wow, really? No way… He’s still so tiny.” Daichi puffs his chest out proudly.

“Actually the pediatrician said he’s a very strong, big and healthy baby.”

“Daichi, stop gloating to Matsukawa-san~.” Yui has Tooru in her arms now, the toddler reaching across to gently stroke Tadashi’s few hairs. He definitely takes after his parents, with light brown hair like Yui’s and dark brown eyes like Daichi’s. He has Yui’s smile but Daichi’s calm temperament, and he’s just a general cutie all round. Just like how Dachi and Yui babysit Tooru most days, Matsukawa and Hanamaki will babysit Tadashi when the new parents need a day to themselves. (Secretly, Matsukawa wishes they could babysit more. Hanamaki lights up around babies and becomes a new world of gentle and maternal.)

“I can’t help it. Look at him, Yui, he’s just so cute.” Yui laughs and kisses Daichi briefly on the lips followed by a kiss to the crown of Tadashi’s head.

“I know, I know~. He’s my son too, you big dork.” 

“Issei! Tooru!” Matsukawa twists around to looks behind him without taking his finger away from Tadashi - who has started to gummily chew on it - and waves his free hand towards Hanamaki and Hajime approaching down the street. They both wear huge grins, so they must have worked everything out, and wave with both arms as they run towards him.

And then Hajime falls.

Since his arms were up in the air imitating Hanamaki, there’s nothing to stop him as he pitches forwards and slams ungracefully into the pavement. Usually when he falls, he’ll blubber with a few tears and look to his parents for a reaction before gauging how bad it is, but that’s when it’s little cuts and scrapes on his hands and knees. _This_ was a full slam into the pavement whilst he was running with no hands to stop his fall-

Nobody has time to react before he starts screaming and bawling, rolling over onto his side and curling up in a ball with his hands over his face. Hanamaki is instantly by his side, trying to be heard over his cries and ushering him to sit up and let him check for booboos, but Hajime doesn’t reply in any way, shape, or form at all. He stays curled up in his little wailing ball, his cries agonised instead of the usual attention-grabbing whimpering, and Matsukawa gently but quickly pulls his hand away from Tadashi so he can run over in a calm panic. When he’s close, Hanamaki looks up from fumbling around begging Hajime to get up and looks directly at Matsukawa.

He’s terrified.

“H-Hey, hey… It’s okay, let me help, he’ll be okay…” Even if Matsukawa’s voice shakes whilst he whispers to Hanamaki, he must sound a lot more confident because all Hanamaki does is whimper and nod. Slowly, softly, shakily, Matsukawa inches forwards and manages to get his arms underneath Hajime securely, lifting him up into his arms and rocking him slightly as he hushes him, kissing his forehead and temples. He ignores the tiny trickle of blood seeping through Hajime’s fingers. That can be dealt with when he takes his hands away, but first, he needs reassurance to calm down. 

“Shh shh, hey baby… Hajime, it’s okay, shh…” He continues to gently shush Hajime as Yui comes over from the house, Tooru toddling behind her, and a first aid kit in hands. She kneels down next to Matsukawa, leaning over Hajime and joining in attempting to sooth him whilst also tapping his wrists to indicate he should take away his hands. In the background, Hanamaki sits on the floor with an expression of shock and panic, watching the chaos unfold as he can do _nothing_. He’s completely frozen in place, heart thudding painfully in his chest, even as Tooru climbs into his lap and pats Hanamaki’s cheeks, confusedly tilting his head to the side. It’s understandable that he doesn’t get the seriousness of the situation, considering that he has never been hurt this badly, or seen anyone in the same condition.

Before he was at the orphanage, Tooru was in a home of neglect. He was never injured or abused, just ignored. On the rare occasions he was taken notice of, it was only to place entirely unsuitable food in front of him. He’d arrived at the orphanage malnourished and severely underweight, but he learned to _love_ attention. And when he’d been taken in by Matsukawa and Hanamaki, he had flourished and bloomed. He had never been injured. Blood shed was only ever from innocent little scratches or nosebleeds. He just… He didn’t understand what was going on, that anything was wrong.

On the other hand, Hajime was in a world of pain that he hadn’t experienced _before_ orphanage life. Before he was rescued. Hanamaki had denied reading through the file, because the scars and his behaviour had told it all. When they’d first taken him in, mostly-healed bruises had still plagued his body and he’d had scabs that kept coming off when he scratched them, or accidentally wore them off. He’d constantly wanted them to be in the same room as him, to keep an eye on them so they wouldn’t reappear with anything dangerous before he could run and hide. He flinched at raised voices and avoided all physical contact until half a year after he’d been their son. (He’d nervously crawled into Matsukawa’s lap one day, and fell asleep there. Hanamaki had rubbed Matsukawa’s back as he cried because he was so overwhelmingly happy.)

Now, he was back to feeling that same level of agony - like he’d been attacked. Gently, Yui prises Hajime’s hands away from his face and Matsukawa winces. There’s a large cut on Hajime’s temple - not large enough to need stitches - but it bleeds a lot more than Matsukawa thought possible for a cosmetic wound. Hajime’s nose is also bleeding, and Yui carefully presses around it whilst Hajime shrieks to check if it’s broken. Luckily, she sighs in relief, and Matsukawa feels a weight fall off his shoulders. He looks up to Hanamaki and gives him a small smile, and Hanamaki’s response is to almost collapse to the ground, sagging as a huge sigh of relief escapes him. His arms tighten around Tooru in a hug.

“He- He’s gonna be okay, right?” Yui makes a sound of agreement as she wipes an antiseptic wipe over Hajime’s face, working out bits of grit as she cleans most of the blood away.

“Nothing’s broken and head wounds always bleed more than you’d think. A couple of plasters, a gauze patch, and he’ll be fine~.” Hanamaki sighs as Hajime’s cries start to weaken. He’s finally calming down, safe in Matsukawa’s arms and assured that no-one is going to hurt him further than his fall already has. After about 10 minutes, he’s fully patched up and only whimpering instead of full-out bawling. They’ve moved indoors to sit in Daichi and Yui’s living room just until it’s time to leave to get Hajime to Yochien. It’s a kindergarten that specialises in ages 3 to 5, and is the start of their education. Tooru is too little to attend, which is why he spends his days with Daichi, Yui, and Tadashi, but they’re beginning to teach him kanji too. 

Yui feeds Tadashi on the sofa, softly humming as Tooru drinks juice from a sippy-cup next to her, watching the baby feed from her breast with curiosity. Usually, Tadashi isn’t hungry until Daichi has already taken Tooru to play at the park, or he’s settled down for a nap, but there were delays today so Tooru finally gets a view into motherhood. 

“Why doesn’t Tada-chan drink juice?”

“He’s very small, Tooru. Juice would hurt him.”

“So what _is_ he drinking?”

“It’s milk. But it’s special~! It’s mommy milk, so he’ll grow up big and strong!”

“Mommy milk?”

“Mhm~. It’s specially for babies, to help them grow up.” Tooru tilts his chin up proudly and sips from his juice before loudly exclaiming;

“Well, **I** don’t need mommy milk, because I’m already growed up and strong!”

“That’s right~! You’re all grown up!” Yui beams at him, and Tooru grins back, holding his hands out in a peace sign like Hanamaki taught him to for a picture. He snickers as he watches the spectacle before turning back to where Matsukawa is still nursing Hajime in his lap, softly whispering comfort into his ear about how he was so brave, so strong, and the ouchies will go away soon. Daichi steps into the living room with a tray of cups of tea, passing them around. The warmth seeps into Hanamaki’s cold hands and he sighs in delight, the sofa dipping as Daichi sits in the only spare seat next to him.

“Are you still coming to the meet-up on Wednesday?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s not often we get the old team back together.”

“I heard from Kuroo that we’re renting out a gym too, so we can split into two teams and play each other.” There’s a dangerous glint to his grin, and Hanamaki finds himself returning it. 

“Oh, _this_ will be fun.” Before Daichi can shoot back asking if they’ll be on the same team or opposing him, Matsukawa’s watch bleeps and he grunts in surprise.

“That time already? Come on ‘Hiro, we’d better get moving.” Hanamaki finishes off his cup of tea and hisses at the scalding in his throat, but there’s no time to sit around dilly-dallying. It’s time to get Hajime to Yochien, and then it’s straight to work from there.

“Alright then. Thanks again for looking after Tooru. We’ll return the favour as soon as possible.” Daichi laughs as he shows them to the door.

“There’s no favour, we’re friends! Besides, you’re paying us to do this and Tooru is an angel. It’s no problem at all.” Matsukawa and Hanamaki share a glance. Tooru? An angel? Sure, he’s sweet and sugary when he’s happy, but if Daichi and Yui ever see his bad side or his grumpy days… Well, angel wouldn’t exactly be the right word. In fact, it’d be the complete opposite.

Demon. Tooru on a bad day is an absolute _demon_. Secretly, Hanamaki hopes they never have to bear witness to that spectacle. He’s wrenched from his thoughts as Hajime whines and reaches out to him, demanding cuddles from his other papa, now that he’s calmed down. Apparently, he doesn’t want to walk the rest of the way. 

“Want me to carry you?”

“Mhm.”

“On my shoulders~?”

“No.”

“Uh… In my arms?”

“Mhm.” Hanamaki smiles softly and carefully - ever so carefully - Hajime is transferred over from Matsukawa’s arms to Hanamaki’s. Immediately, he loops his arms loosely around Hanamaki’s neck and burrows his face into his shoulder. Hajime doesn’t usually get clingy, so a hug like this is precious cuddle time, and vital to soothing him when he’s upset. Matsukawa gently ruffles Hajime’s hair and grins and he opens the garden gate and holds it open for Hanamaki to step through first. They wave goodbye to Tooru, Daichi and Yui, and then they’re on their way to Yochien.


	6. Rival!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four more characters make debuts!

“What on earth happened?” Standing in the doorway of the Yochien, Hanamaki whistles ‘innocently’ and looks away whilst Matsukawa rubs the back of his head sheepishly. Akaashi is the teacher for Hajime’s class, and currently, he stands intimidatingly in front of them with his hands on his hips. Despite being slightly shorter, it feels like he currently towers over them. Luckily, Hajime isn’t awake to view the scary spectacle. He’s drifted off to sleep in Hanamaki’s arms, drooling over his collarbone.

“Long story, uh, but Hajime fell over really bad this morning. Yui patched him up, but… He’s still probably really hurting…” Akaashi sighs and takes Hajime from them so they can head off to work. At the transition from Hanamaki’s arms to another's, Hajime groggily whines and lifts his head, rubbing at his tired, red eyes. The skin around them is still swollen from his breakdown earlier, giving him an old and exhausted appearance. Hanamaki coos softly as he strokes back a strand of Hajime’s fringe, bleary green eyes looking at him unfocused.

“Hey, Haji~. Me and Papa are going to work now. Wanna say byebye?” The three year old waves a hand limply in their direction, too weary to summon a proper wave or verbal response. Matsukawa chuckles and checks his watch one more time. From here, they separate. Hanamaki goes left towards the calm and placid shopping streets, working full time at a bakery that he partly helped to found. Matsukawa heads towards the skyscrapers in the east, towering office buildings that are where he spends the large majority of his time. Paperwork might not be the most exciting job, but his colleagues are quiet and calm and Matsukawa appreciates the break. Kids are great, but… So much noise and mess…

“Have a fun day, kiddo. I’ll be here to pick you up at 4.” It’s late, but Akaashi has no problems with watching over Hajime whilst cleaning the Yochien and locking up. On the really late nights where the bakery stays open for promotional events and Matsukawa is caught up with paperwork and files, Akaashi will babysit Hajime at his own small apartment until one of them can pick him up. It’s perfectly normal, considering they were all on the same volleyball team in high school _and_ college. Akaashi, along with Daichi and a few other people, has always been by their side and supported them through everything.

The volleyball team had been there for their wedding, had supported and prepared them for wanting to adopt a child, and had even built the nursery room as a surprise for them! Over time, the nursery had been updated and redecorated many times into what was now a bedroom for their two sons. Matsukawa waves as he walks away, feeling his heart blossom in his chest as Hajime lazily waves back, before turning to wave to Hanamaki before he can disappear round the corner, and nuzzling back into Akaashi’s neck. The teacher smiles slightly and puts a steady hand on Hajime’s back to stop him falling backwards. From the large gauze over his temple, spanning his forehead, and the brightly coloured plasters over the bridge of his nose, chin, and cheeks, he’s fallen enough today.

He carries Hajime into the classroom, finding a nice bean bag to lay him in whilst he naps, covering him with a small blanket from the nearby basket. Hajime whines in his sleep, eyebrows creasing and lips drawing into a frown as he turns onto his side and grabs onto the blanket tightly. In his sleep, he’s probably reliving the moment he fell, or the pain he felt afterwards. Akaashi gently runs a hand through Hajime’s hair in a rhythm to calm him down. It works. His breathing evens out and his fist uncurls and his face relaxes. Still, he was _hurt_. He was hurt and he was having a nightmare already.

“You poor thing... It’s only morning…” The teacher has no more time to look after him as other children start to arrive in flurries and crowds, noisy and excited and impatient toddlers all in the 3-4 age group, immediately going over to their favourite toys to play whilst Akaashi exchanges pleasantries with the parents. Secretly, he keeps peeking out the corner of his eye at Hajime, all alone and asleep in the bean bag. When the assistant teacher - Asahi - gets here, he’ll ask the bundle of nerves to sit near the nap area just to watch out for any signs of nightmares or distress, and keep the other children from disturbing him. 

It was an… _Awkward_... Situation with Hajime and the rest of the class. He had a few friends, but those friends had other friends in groups in the class, and Hajime was no-one's first choice to play with or talk with or sit next to. He actively sought out places to hide and pushed people away when there were too many of them, a shy young boy who liked quiet and privacy rather than being crowded. Hajime _preferred_ to be with adults, or specifically, quieter adults like his teachers. He couldn’t be with more than two or three classmates at a time, so it was rare for him to join in with group projects and playtime. As such, his social development was falling far behind.

“Good morning, sorry I’m late!” Asahi jogs into the classroom and tucks his bag in the corner, tugging off his jacket to hang up on a labelled peg and pulling on his apron. As Akaashi hums back a good morning and points him towards Hajime, Asahi ties his messy hair up into a bun. Apparently, he hasn’t had time to brush it today. The last of the children are starting to arrive, yet Akaashi cannot abandon his post to greet them until everyone has arrived. Luckily, it seems like Asahi has their attention, hunched up in front of the beanbag stack with a book in hands, his soft and gentle voice reading to the children. Those that weren’t interested in the story were perfectly happy to play by themselves or in small groups.

“- and the butterfly swooped through the reeds, down towards the water’s edge to look for a friend.”

“Asahi-san.” He stops reading to look up at Akaashi, blinking like he’s just been pulled out of another world. Considering how _good_ he is at reading and conveying the story, he probably does get a little sucked into each book. He rubs the back of his head with a small, nervous chuckle and places the book aside.

“Sorry, kids. We- We can continue before break…? If that’s okay…?” There are protests and groans of disappointment, but then Akaashi clears his throat and gestures towards the chair piled up at the side of the room. There are five different colours of chairs, and each one is labelled with a name, and has a small desk attached to it, just big enough for a child to write on.

“Everybody grab your chairs. We’ll start by learning the katakana for ‘ne’ and ‘ta’ today.” A child with wild red hair that sticks up at all angles darts his hand into the air and Akaashi feels his state of perpetual exhaustion inch higher up the scale a little. This one kid is always asking questions and making noise and causing trouble. _Always_.

“Yes, Satori?”

“Why are we only being learnt two? I wanna learn four!”

“I’m only _teaching_ you two today because they’re the hardest ones for little children.”

“I’m not little! I wanna learn four! Four!” His disobedience and general energetic behaviour is starting to make the other kids fidget. The mischanneled energy is begin to fuel the flames of a _riot_ in these children. Akaashi really does not want a riot on his hands. He raises his voice to be heard above the murmuring kids.

“ _ **If**_ you learn both of them before break, we’ll have a longer lunch and storytime.” Their attention is effectively diverted away from rebellion and they quickly rush to grab their chairs. All but one. Hajime is just sitting up in his bean bag, rubbing his sore and swollen eyes and wincing when his clumsy hand hits the side of his nose. It might not be broken, but it’s sore and tender. Even accidental brushes probably hurt. Asahi soothingly pats his back and speaks soft, reassuring words that Akaashi can’t hear, and Hajime nods before pottering over to his little purple chair and carrying it to an empty space. Just like school classrooms, they’re arranged in lines, and Hajime is in the middle near the back. Akaashi gives the class a smile and draws two katakana characters on the board.

“This one is ‘ne’, and this one is ‘ta’. Which one shall we do first, hm?” The chorus of answers is split between the class with no clear winner, but Akaashi already knew this would happen. Predicting things like this is one of the intuitions he’s developed, as a Yochien teacher.

“Then we’ll start with ‘ta’. So first, we draw a curved line, like this…” As Akaashi shows them through the stages, Asahi walks between the little desks, giving advice where needed and complementing the children on their successes. They were supposed to be working in silence, but as 3-4 year olds, there were obviously going to be whispers between desks and little giggles. When they move onto ‘ne’, a problem arises. 

A little problem named Satori.

“I’m out of paper, give me some of yours!” Without waiting for an answer, as any four year old does, Satori snatches some paper from the neighbouring desk. From Hajime. Akaashi instantly feels like pinching the bridge of his nose. This can _not_ end well, considering Satori and Hajime can’t _**stand**_ each other. In the split second Akaashi has taken to ponder on the life choices that led him to this moment, Hajime has raised his fist high and Satori is pulling a face at him.

“Hajime, no!” Before Akaashi can move though, Asahi has already intercepted, darting through the tiny desks to stand between the children. Hajime manages to stop his fist in time, pulling it back and looking up at Asahi with wide eyes, but the motive was still there. Looking down on the child, Asahi isn’t aware of how scary his face is when he’s disappointed. Hajime shuffles backwards and looks down at the floor instead. From behind Asahi, Satori leans around his legs and sticks his tongue out, tugging down the skin under one of his eyes. Asahi’s gaze swings round to him and he instantly shrieks and stops. 

“Both of you outside, now please.” He offers them a hand each and they reluctantly take it as he walks them out the classroom. Akaashi can continue teaching this way, and it’s a lot easier to talk to the two in trouble when the whole class isn’t staring. They might just be kids, but it’s still scary to be stared at! He crouches down to meet their eyes, gently tilting their heads upwards so they actually look at him.

“Hey… What happened back there?”

“Hajime hit me!”

“Did not! He tooked my paper!”

“Did _not_!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did-!”

“ _Enough._ ” Whilst Asahi’s voice is still quiet and patient, there’s a firm tone to it that draws the attention to him and the children obediently place their backs to the wall, looking up at him. Asahi clears his throat whilst he tries to figure out his words.

“S-So… Satori, you took a piece of Hajime’s paper without asking, didn’t you?”

“I asked! I said- I said I needed it!” 

“You did _NOT!_ ” Hajime stomps his little foot and looks like he’s about to launch himself at Satori so Asahi darts a hand between them. With a smug face, the older child crosses his arms and puffs his chest out like he’s won. Oh, he hasn’t. He certainly hasn’t and Asahi sternly clears his throat to let him know that. Satori deflates like an old, soggy balloon caught on rusty railings.

“Satori, saying you need something is not asking. And snatching is very bad. Do you remember how to ask for something nicely?” Satori huffs unhappily, but he takes a deep breath and answers in a deadpan voice.

“May I please borrow some of what you are using?”

“That’s right, you ask _nicely_. And did you?” Satori has the grace to looks sheepish and guilty as he shakes his head. That’s one issue pointed out. Now… Asahi looks to Hajime, who stubbornly has his arms crossed and heavily pouts.

“Hajime, do you know what you did wrong?”

“I- I tried to hitted him…” Asahi offers out a tissue from the pocket in his apron, and Hajime takes it to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. He tries to offer the tissue back, but Asahi nervously chuckles and gestures that he keep it. He looks between the two children with a tiny shy smile and his shoulders relax.

“What do you need to say to each other?” The boys look at each other with narrowed eyes and childish dislike, neither wanting to yield first. Satori sticks his tongue out and Hajime scowls, prompting Asahi to sigh. For a moment, he panics they might start fighting again. Then Hajime steps back and fidgets, his hands tangled in the bottom of his shirt.

“I sorry.”

“Yeah, I- I guess I’m sorry too.” The boys shake hands and Asahi sighs with relief, wiping away sweat beading on his forehead.

“Ow! You’re squiding my hand!”

“You did it first!”

“Stop it!”

“You stop!”

Resisting the urge to slap his palm against his face, Asahi tiredly separates them and puts them in naughty chairs at opposite ends of the hallway. This doesn't stop them throwing each other nasty looks or pulling faces or shouting at each other. Asahi pulls a stopwatch out his apron and sets the timer for the naughty chairs. 1 minute for each year of age. And Boy, is this going to be a long three minutes whilst they’re there together….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are awesome with comments and I love reading through them~!  
> Keep 'em coming!


	7. Teacher.

The end of the day is a welcome relief for Akaashi and Asahi. As per usual, much of their energy and time has gone into keeping Satori and Hajime from _killing_ each other, because they probably would if they could. Akaashi has no idea why on earth they hate each other so much, when their guardians got along splendidly. At least on the surface they did. 

Ushijima, Satori’s uncle and the one taking care of him, was Matsukawa’s boss and they were both pleasant towards each other. They seemed to genuinely respect each other on equal ground, until they were in the workplace where professionalism took hold. On the other hand, Hanamaki was a friend outside the workplace and approached Ushijima with nothing but casualness. Slaps on the back and loud laughter and teasing prods were all part of how Hanamaki communicated, and this clearly didn’t differ with Matsukawa’s boss. Sometimes Akaashi found it hilarious to watch how Matsukawa would react when Hanamaki stepped a _liiiittle_ too close to the metaphorical line.

“Satori! Your uncle is here!” 

“WakaWaka!” Satori grabs his items from his little labelled cubby-hole and sprints out the door without waiting to say goodbye to anyone, _especially_ not Hajime. Ushijima catches the four year old as he leaps into his uncle’s arms, clearing winding him with an accidental kick to the stomach. Akaashi snickers in amusement whilst Ushijima is still occupied with listening to Satori’s ramblings, then looks around. Usually, Matsukawa and Ushijima arrive together since they come from the same place. The business man seems to catch his curious searching gaze and steps forwards to talk to him.

“Matsukawa-san said something about a toy shop. He will not be long.” 

“I see. Thank you for letting me know.” They bow respectfully to each other and Ushijima is on his way, lifting Satori onto his shoulders and enquiring about his day. There’s a small smile on his lips that only emerges around friends and family, and he chuckles warmly at something Satori says, drawing attention from a few mothers picking their children up from other classes. Eyes on his back make Akaashi rolls his own eyes and he raises his voice.

“You can stop hiding now.” Instead of a child, it’s _Asahi_ who peeks out from behind the wooden doorframe and whimpers out begging for confirmation that Ushijima is gone. Only when Akaashi confirms it does he step out and dust off his apron like he was never hiding in the first place. The second he’s within range, Akaashi pinches his ear.

“O-Ow…”

“I don’t understand why you cower behind the doorframe every time Ushijima-san is here.”

“He’s scary…”

“He’s not _that_ scary.” Asahi shuffles sheepishly and Akaashi lets the subject go with a sigh. He’s not sure he can ever help the co-teacher get over his ridiculous fear of Ushijima. Then again, this is the 20-something year old man with a fear of dark, thunder, lightning, mice, spiders, loud noises, public transport, racoons, kangaroos, Australia in general, society, and ducks. Ah, and Ushijima. There were probably many more that Akaashi hadn’t discovered yet, but he was bound to at some point. 

“So… Where’s Matsukawa?”

“Ah, Ushijima said something about a toy shop. I’m sure he’s picking something up for Hajime and Tooru.” 

“Maybe it’s a reward since we didn’t need to call him in today?” _That_ draws a small laugh from Akaashi. Usually, Hajime would end up in some kind of mood or trouble that required him to go home early, and Akaashi would have to ring either Matsukawa or Hanamaki to pick him up. Most of Hajime’s time; therefore; is spent shyly hiding under his Papa’s desk in an office building, or sitting on a stool in the corner of a bakery.

Actually… Thinking about it that way, Akaashi realises just how _little_ time Hajime spends learning or in the presence of others his age. No wonder his social and verbal development is slower than most three year olds. At this rate, Tooru will be catching up and overtaking him. In concern, he glances back to where Hajime is struggling to read the same book read earlier. He’s sitting on the decking with his legs hanging over, scuffing his toes into the ground with his brow furrowed as he gives it all he’s got, trying to process the unfamiliar kanji and words. Akaashi walks over to sit next to him.

“Would you like some help, Hajime?” Green eyes dart up to him with a flicker of discomfort and he shakes his head thoroughly, biting down on his bottom lip hard with _embarrassment_. He’s really having trouble reading. More likely, he _can’t_ read. That’s not unusually, considering he is only three, but most of the children in the class have started already. They have to, with three alphabets to learn before 5 years when they start actual school.

“... Why don’t you read to me instead?” Again, Hajime shakes his head. He’s less embarrassed this time and more ashamed. Is he- Is he too scared to read in case he gets something wrong? 

“Alright. If you need anything, just come ask me or Asahi, okay?”

“Kay.” Akaashi encouragingly pats Hajime’s shoulder before getting back to his feet and standing by Asahi’s side. They’re looking out for the late arrivals, and watching over the children of these late-arrivals play on the equipment. The other teachers of their classes are there, a fact Akaashi almost forgets when he sees a little girl slipping on the money bars and turns his body to run to her, but he’s quickly reminded he and Asahi aren’t the only ones here when Bokuto darts out from behind the slide and catches her in his arms before she even fully lets go. He laughs as he sets the little girl down and she runs off with giggles, Bokuto’s expression softening as she approaches her friends. As if he senses Akaashi’s gaze, he looks up and waves in their direction. Akaashi shyly straightens up and fixes his eyes forwards to avoid eye contact. His cheeks burn and he pouts a little at his reflex reaction. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Asahi is wearing a knowing smirk.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything~.”

“Shut _up_.” He nudges his elbow against Asahi’s ribs and the gentle giant wheezes, clutching at his side. This is the scene Matsukawa walks in on, raising one thick eyebrow in questioning amusement. The teachers look away sheepishly and step aside to let Matsukawa through to his son, still sitting and attempting to read. He doesn’t even notice Matsukawa approach until a hand ruffles though his hair and he looks up to see who it is. A happy gasp escapes him and the book is dropped to the side, falling into the dust as Hajime extends his arms up and is pulled into a warm hug, smooshing his cheek against Matsukawa’s.

“I missed you, Papa.”

“Missed you too, Hajime. Did you have a good day?”

“Nah.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nah.”

“What happened?”

“Dun’ wanna talk ‘bout it.” With a frown of concern, Matsukawa shuffles Hajime into a more comfortable position to carry, making sure the bag on his hip is closed and its contents hidden from view. Akaashi notices the secrecy surrounding the bag and his eyebrows quirk up as the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. There is, however, a more pressing issue to talk about. He clears his throat and steps over to talk to Matsukawa in a professional manner.

“There was an incident between Hajime and Satori today.”

“You mean _another_ one?” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Akaashi nods, tense with stress and closing his eyes as if reliving the moment.

“Yes, another one. We were able to intervene before they began wrestling this time. Asahi took them into the corridor to resolve things.” Matsukawa sighs and presses back against Hajime’s cheek, letting the small child nuzzle into him affectionately. He just can’t get angry. Hajime is too cute, and at this age, he’s a little sensitive to critique. Repetitive correction, though, should solve his behavioural issues quickly.

“I’ll talk with him when we get home. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Just doing my job, Matsukawa-san.” They stare at each other for a moment before breaking into warm chuckles and smiles.

“Are you still coming to the team meet up?”

“Of course. I hope you are ready to put out some combos.”

“More than ready! As is ‘Hiro. He’s a little less rusty than me, so you might want to use the left more.” 

“Understood.” Asahi giggles from behind them and they suddenly remember that he generally teams up with Daichi, and since Daichi will team up with Suga as a setter, Asahi won’t be on the same team as them. Akaashi tugs the back of his collar to bring him into the conversation, leaning in intimidatingly close. Asahi gulps.

“You dare tell Daichi about this, I will leave you in a room of 11 hyperactive children doing arts and crafts.”

“P-Please no…” Asahi’s voice wobbles and Matsukawa muffles a laugh in Hajime’s hair. It’s one thing to know that Asahi is a big scaredy-cat, it’s another to watch it in action. In other words, it’s hilarious as long as it’s nothing serious or dangerous. Akaashi releases Asahi’s collar and brushes his hands together as if dusting them off successfully.

“Anyways. Hajime, would you like to burrow that book?”

“Bu’wo?” Bright green eyes blink up at Akaashi, his question muffled in Matsukawa’s shirt.

“Mhm~. You can take it home, and bring it back tomorrow.”

“... Okay. I burrow.” Akaashi scoops the book up from the dust and brushes it off before passing it over to Hajime, who clutches it in his crossed arms and hides back against Matsukawa’s chest. It’s been a long, tiring day, and everything that’s happened has left him feeling drained and sleepy. Matsukawa chuckles and kisses his forehead before turning back to the Yochien teachers. 

“Thank you for watching him. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

“We’ll be waiting.” Akaashi waves as Matsukawa starts to walk and pauses by Asahi for the gentle giant to coo at Hajime, getting a shy giggle in return.

“Say goodbye, Hajime~.”

“Bai bai.” His tiny hand waves over Matsukawa’s shoulder as they exit the Yochien grounds and Akaashi picks up on the dopey smile Asahi wears. He raises an eyebrow in question, although it would be a lie if he said he were also not smiling. Asahi rubs sheepishly at the back of his neck.

“No matter how many times we look after the kids… I can’t stop thinking how cute they are~.” 

“Hmm. I agree. Although they _do_ have their moments…” Once more, Asahi laughs, rich and deep in sound. It’s cut off by a squawk as he’s tackled from behind, the remaining kids growing bored with waiting for their parents and insisting on play. As Akaashi watches Asahi dragged away stuttering, he can’t help but smile a little softer.

Sure, the kids get into fights. They make their messes, they throw tantrums, they have general bratty moments… 

But Akaashi really loves his job, for all the good times and precious moments that will help these kids develop, the unique memories that will build their character and guild them into being the best versions of themselves. It’s a wonderful job, Akaashi thinks, and the only reward worth anything is to watch these children grow and flourish.

He pauses as he thinks of the book lying discarded on the ground before he picked it up. Perhaps, some needed more encouragement to grow than others. And as a Yochien teacher, he would take it upon himself to make sure everyone got the nurture they needed and deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my cruddy blog on Tumblr and come yell Seijou stuff at me! Plz. I am lonely.  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/russiansunflower3


	8. Peace.

As soon as Matsukawa arrived home, he first lay a dozing Hajime down on the sofa, and then moved to the kitchen table with his bag. Not the work bag, that lay discarded in the hallway. No, this bag was much more important in regards to family life. He rummaged through and pulled out a pack of paints, in red, blue, and yellow. The cosmo ranger colours. Next, he unveiled a toy Kaiju. It was less like the Kaiju in Cosmo Ranger, since it had been released for the upcoming Godzilla movie, but at the very least it _was_ a Kaiju. Hajime would be absolutely delighted.

With a proud little hum of satisfaction, Matsukawa found a small paintbrush, relocated the Cosmo Ranger toy, and pulled on a pair of glasses he only ever used for magnification. They were handy for work, when he had to read printed documents, and they were handy right now, for doing the detailed work of painting. He set to work quickly, relishing in the quietness that allowed him to focus. 

Hanamaki wouldn’t be home with Tooru for another hour, so the only noise currently was Hajime’s soft, relaxed breathing, and the ticking of the clock on the mantlepiece. Continually referring to the Cosmo Ranger toy, Matsukawa painted the Kaiju as best he could. At the very least, it closely resembled Hajime’s favourite superhero. Now, it was just a matter of letting it dry. He sets it aside in a large cardboard box and then places that on the shelf, far from sight. Once Hajime and Tooru are in bed, he’ll hide the Kaiju in the toy box and remove the Cosmo Ranger toy. At least until Hajime asks for it back, if he ever does.

“Papa…” He twists his head over to the sofa, where Hajime is still sleeping, but talking out loud. With a soft chuckle, Matsukawa removes his itchy, uncomfortable work clothing, pulls on a pair of pyjamas from the ‘waiting-to-be-ironed’ pile, and picks Hajime up as gentle as he can. He cradles the three year old like a baby, rocking him soothingly as he sits down on the sofa, then spreads his legs across it.

One hand adjusts the cushion behind him to support his neck, whilst the other rests on Hajime’s back as the child shuffles and arranges himself comfortably. He ends up lying on Matsukawa’s chest with his little hands bundled in the pyjama shirt material, hair just tickling Matsukawa’s chin and heels hanging off his sides, digging into his hips. 

Still, Matsukawa strokes a soft hand through Hajime’s hair and presses a kiss to his forehead before laying back and closing his eyes. They still have 20 minutes before Hanamaki brings home Tooru - and the consequent noise - so he may as well nap.

Meanwhile, and across town, Hanamaki is running a little behind schedule. He was supposed to have finished half an hour ago and be on his way to picking Tooru up by now, but one of their staff members had gone home sick, leaving Hanamaki to clean and lock up alone. Not to mention, a customer had turned up five minutes before closing - and bless her soul, she’d been very apologetic - since the bakery she’d asked to make her granddaughters birthday cake had not fulfilled their promise. Fortunately, she’d been refunded, but they had then refused to stay open past closing time to provide the cake. 

Having a weakness for children, (and admittedly, for helping little old ladies,) Hanamaki had personally baked the cake. It was two tiers, one vanilla and one chocolate, covered in strawberry frosting with slices of strawberry on top, accompanied with white chocolate curls, milk chocolate stars, and a dark chocolate plaque that had _‘Happy birthday Hitoka!’_ piped onto it in elegant curly lettering. It looked fun and delicious, in a way that would appeal to both children and adults. Whilst the cake had been baking in the oven, Hanamaki had made conversation with her and found out two things.

1.Hitoka was a little younger than Tooru.  
2.They would be entering the same Yochien as Hajime in the same term.

Honestly, Hanamaki had been over the moon. He’d suggested introducing the children before term began, so they had a friend to start the Yochien year with. The old lady had agreed and eagerly swapped contact details with him, before watching him decorate the cake in peace. When she left the bakery, it was not without a sweet statement that Tooru and Hajime sounded very cute and she looked forwards to introducing her granddaughter to them. 

Leaving the bakery 43 minutes late but in a good mood, Hanamaki strode to the Sawamura-Michimiya residence. It was quite a mouthful for their friends to say, so both Daichi and Yui had insisted on using their original surnames, if they were going to use surnames at all. Generally, the friends did _not_. Whilst Daichi may have sometimes lectured them about respect and ‘a time and a place for everything’, their friend group was perhaps a little too casual or _cheeky_ to pay any regards to his lecture. 

Hanamaki himself rarely referred to them by last name. As he hurried up to the front gate, it became clear that Tooru had been impatiently waiting, or had at least grown bored. He was sat hunched on the doorstep with a frumpy face, arms crossed and cheeks puffed out with eyebrows knitted together in irritation. He almost looks like Hajime like this, and Hanamaki laughs loud enough it draws Tooru’s attention. 

“Papa~!” He bolts up from his seat, clumsily running as fast as his little legs can take him over to the front gate. Hanamaki opened it and crouched down, his arms spread wide for Tooru to barrel into. He might be small, but he sure is heavy!

“Oof!” Hanamaki is almost knocked over backwards by the tiny Tooru torpedo, but manages to keep his balance and sweeps Tooru up with a victorious roar, throwing him into the air just a little and catching him again, pulling him in tight as Tooru squeals and giggles. Daichi appears in the doorframe with a smile, watching the half-family reunite. 

“Hey, Tooru~! Were you good today?”

“I were! I were vewy good! R-Right Dai-chan?!” Daichi nods, stepping over to sling Tooru’s daycare bag over Hanamaki’s shoulder, seeing as he didn’t have a free hand.

“He was delightful. He even helped with the washing up!” Hanamaki beams at Tooru, speaking to him with a voice full of praise.

“You did? What a big boy, Tooru! So helpful and good!”

“I good!” Hanamaki blows a raspberry against his cheek and Tooru squeals, clumsy hands clapping the sides of Hanamaki’s face. Daichi watches them fondly, knowing full well how amazing of a parent Hanamaki is. Matsukawa too. He hopes that as Tadashi grows, he too, will be an excellent parent. His deep thoughts are interrupted by a brush of slender fingers against his back and he turns to meet Yui’s lips with his own. Her voice is just above a whisper so she doesn’t draw attention from Hanamaki or Tooru, letting them have their moment.

“Thinking hard?”

“Mhm. I’m just hoping… Tadashi… He… I just want the best for him. I want him to feel safe and loved and cherished. And- And I want him to grow up a good, kind person.” Yui muffles a laugh behind her hand and rests her head on Daichi’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Of course he will~. He has a wonderful father to raise him.” Daichi smiles down at her gently and wraps his arm around her waist, before she punches softly into his ribcage and sticks her tongue out at him with a wink. It’s still a heavy punch, even if she was holding back! Sometimes, Daichi thinks as he almost doubles over, Yui doesn’t know her own strength.

“Besides, I’ll be there to keep you two in line~!”

“Hmmm? What’s going on here?” Hanamaki grins at them with a hint of smugness, his thin eyebrows waggling and barking out a laugh as the two blush and step away from each other.

“No, no, please continue! I don’t want to interrupt your sappy displays!”

“‘Appy disp’ays!” Tooru echoes, throwing his arms up as if victorious. Daichi and Hanamaki chuckle whilst Yui giggles, reaching out to pinch his little chubby cheeks.

“You’re such a cheeky boy~. You be good for your Papa’s until tomorrow!”

“I do dat.” He smiles, bright and brilliant and enough to melt hearts. With a smile like that, eyes that twinkle and sparkles, and his soft, floppy hair, he’s going to draw a lot of attention as he ages. _Especially_ if he has a personality just as sweet and compassionate as he does now. Oh the hearts he could steal.

“Alright tiny tot, let’s get you home~.”

“I a tot, je suis a to’!” Hanamaki laughs, loud and vibrant, hugging Tooru close. The usual singing nonsense he comes up with is replaced with a theme from one of the shows he watches in the evening. Apparently, it was huge in the UK in the 90’s. Matsukawa just so happened to come across a couple of VHS tapes in a charity store that covered a wide variety of the foreign TV shows. Admittedly Hanamaki’s understanding of English had shot up, along with a few spoken words of French. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Daichi, Yui.” With an enthusiastic wave, Tooru shouts his goodbyes over the top of Daichi and Yui sending him off, until he’s safely in the pram and the house is no longer in sight. He may have woken Tadashi up from his nap with all that shouting, but Yui insisted there was no harm done every time. The rest of the walk home is Tooru babbling to himself and Hanamaki, talking about his day in general two year old nonsense and noise. Once they get home, Hanamaki folds up the pram as Tooru totters around the doorstep, trying to open it without understanding the concept of it being locked.

“Hang on there, bud. I got it.” He puts the key in the lock and twists it, pulling the handle down and gently pushing it open, just enough that it won’t swing shut again as Tooru pushes it all the way. It thuds quietly against the wall from where the inside handle nudges an already deep dent in the hallway, but it’s not loud enough to wake anyone. Whilst Tooru wrestles his shoes off by himself, Hanamaki walks through to the lounge intent on sneaking up on Matsukawa and Hajime, who are usually snacking and watching TV.

The silence of the room baffles him for a moment, so he walks in on his tiptoes. It’s a good thing he does, because the second he gets close enough to see the sofa, his hands come to cover his mouth in a silent gasp and he melts into a wobbly smile and his eyes water. His husband and son are _adorable_.

Matsukawa is lying on his back with one leg dangling off the sofa and the other crooked at an angle so his knee rests on one of the cushions. The leg hanging off is accompanied by an arm, but his other arm remains over his chest. Or rather, on Hajime’s back. Hajime himself has curled up like a pillbug - a little woodlouse - his knees drawn to his chest and one arm wrapped around them, his free hand gripping the material of Matsukawa’s pyjama shirt. 

Both of them drool a little, although Hajime’s drool puddles on his Papa’s chest, whereas Matsukawa’s just dribbled down his chin and onto the cushion he uses as a pillow. They look so relaxed… So calm and peaceful… Hanamaki snaps a quick photo on his phone as Tooru comes toddling through, and takes one look at the sofa before turning to Hanamaki.

“Nap time?” He looks so bewildered, because he’s _had_ a nap at the Sawamura-Michimiya residence, he doesn’t have to take _another_ one, does he? With a quiet snicker, Hanamaki kneels down next to him and strokes a hand through his soft hair.

“Only for Papa and Hajime. Why don’t we make some food, hm?”

“... Frui’y shapes!” Hanamaki nods, and Tooru claps his hands in delight. Holding hands, they move to the kitchen. Tooru puts his tiny apron on happily, copying his Papa. They wash their hands in the sink, and then Hanamaki retrieves a wide variety of fruits, and some cookie cutters.

“What do you want to do, Tooru~?” The two years old stands on his little stool to stare with narrowed eyes at the cookie cutters, scanning each shape as best he can from his angle until his eyes open wide with an excited gleam and he reaches out to grab one.

“Star, star!” He brandishes the star shaped cookie cutter with glee, looking remarkably like he was trying to advertise it. Hanamaki holds back a laugh and cuts the fruit into smaller slices just a little bigger than the cookie cutter so Tooru can easily push the cutter in and pull the shapes out. He makes stars of watermelon, pears, apples, kiwi, breadfruit and papaya.

Hanamaki uses a sharp knife to carve intricate roses out of the same fruits, before turning to the cookie cutters out of boredom and swapping between shapes. Since he’s stronger than Tooru, he focuses on the harder fruit. The hard flesh of the unripe squash is a challenge, but once it’s cut and cooked, it’ll taste amazing. He can sprinkle some sugar over and caramelize it too, a partially healthy treat that the children love.

“Papa, papa, look!” Wiping his arm over his forehead, Hanamaki exhales rapidly and smiles, looking over their assortment of shapes, colours, and fruits. 

“It’s beautiful, Tooru! Very pretty!”

“Pwetty!” 

“Let me take a photo, okay?” 

“Yay~!” Tooru rearranges his footing on his little stool so that he faces the camera, the fruits in the background. Just as taught by Hanamaki, he automatically holds up a peace sign, but with _both_ hands and beams brightly. He’s so cute, it takes away from the focal point of the picture, but Hanamaki doesn’t care a single bit. He’s quick to take and save the photo, showing it to Tooru, who holds the phone in his fruity, sticky hands with awe.

“Pwetty…” 

“Yeah? I bet it’s yummy too~.” Tooru looks between the picture and the fruit behind him, before glancing up at Hanamaki with wide eyes as if to ask permission. A simple nod is all it takes for Tooru to reach out and grab one of his watermelon stars, down the hatch before Hanamaki can even blink.

“Ish goo’! Yum yum!”

“Well, I’m glad you like it, my sweet little acorn~.” Tooru grins and jumps from his stool to cling to Hanamaki’s waist, luckily being caught.

“I ready to nap now.” Gently, Hanamaki unties their aprons and removes them. He leaves them on the side as he places the fruit in the fridge, and continues to carry Tooru on his hip through to the living room. There’s just enough space at the end of the sofa, where Matsukawa’s leg had fallen off, for Hanamaki to sit with Tooru on his lap, leaning back comfortably. Tooru wriggles around to face him, slumping against Hanamaki with one chubby little cheek against Hanamaki’s chest. There’s going to be drool, Hanamaki knows it, but for now, he’s content to wrap both arms around Tooru, lean back, and close his eyes.

Peace is hard to come by, but it’s well worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's your favourite fruity shape~? °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°


	9. Minutes (1)

When Matsukawa finally woke, it was to blinding light on his face, an awful crick in his back, and the sounds of birds. 

_Birds?_

He almost bolts up, if not for the heavy weight on his front, and that’s when he remembers. Yesterday, straight after bringing Hajime home, he’d fallen asleep on the sofa with his son and apparently, hadn’t woken. He blinks and raises a numb arm to rub at his eyes, shuffling up a little to look around the room. He blinks again, and more frequently, when he spots Hanamaki and Tooru by his foot, nestled together comfortably. How long have they been there?

“Taka…” He nudges Hanamaki with his foot gently. And then again a little more forcibly. And finally, he manages to wriggle his toes under Hanamaki’s shirt, and dig his toes into a little ticklish spot just below Hanamaki’s ribs. With a jolt, the other awakes, squealing quietly with a little snort. Matsukawa chuckles gently, prompting a grizzle from Hajime as his ‘bed’ moves. It takes a little shushing and reassuring, but Matsukawa manages to sit up and set Hajime aside in a little cushion nest. He locates his phone and checks the time.

“... Takahiro. It’s 6;55. We have to leave in 5 minutes.” Hanamaki stares at him for a solid 30 seconds, eyes widening comically slowly.

“Holy cheesecake…! I was sure I set my alarm!” Wrestling his own phone out of his pocket, Hanamaki is horrifically disturbed to realise Matsukawa is _absolutely_ correct. He almost leaps from the sofa like a young gazelle, Tooru in his arms.

“I’ll bathe them, you grab clothes, there are fruit shapes in the fridge ready to be boxed, they can eat them on the way!”

“Got it, let’s go.” Matsukawa sweeps Hajime off the sofa and follows Hanamaki up the stairs, straight into the bathroom. As Hanamaki runs the tap, Matsukawa undresses the children and showers them off. Tooru sits up on his own and rubs sleepily at his eyes with a squeaky yawn, before breaking into a sleepy beam and playing with the bubbles scrubbed into his hair. He’s such a cutie in the mornings… 

On the other hand… Hajime leans fully against the wall, eyes still scrunched shut and lips in an exaggerated grumpy pout. He’s definitely awake, but he is _not_ happy. Not a happy bunny at all. If anything, Matsukawa is sure that if he were awake _enough_ , he’d be glaring at them angrily for disturbing his sleep. He chuckles at the thought and Hajime groggily grunts. Hanamaki leans over to gently smack Matsukawa’s shoulder and gestures for him to ‘shh’, although his eyes crinkle at the edges and his smile wobbles in adoration. 

Once the bath is just deep enough to reach Hajime’s waist, Hanamaki silently picks the children up and deposits them in the tub. Matsukawa watches fondly from the shower stools as Tooru watches the bath toys bob around and Hajime blearily blinks into awareness.

“Issei! Clothes! We don’t have time to sit around!” He blinks out of the blissful state rapidly and the rush sets back in as he darts into the children’s bedroom. Rummaging through, he has no _idea_ what they’re going to want to wear. Usually he has some kind of direction. As he’s floundering, a voice shouts through from the bathroom.

“Hajime wants red, Tooru wants fluffy!” That helps. Rolling his eyes in amusement, Matsukawa finds some red shorts and a black top for Hajime, and a huge fluffy sweater for Tooru in grey, with light brown jeans. It looks really cosy, like something he might actually wear in winter. The thought makes him pause. It’s _spring_ , getting close to summer. Why would Tooru want winter wear? Unless…

“ Hey ‘Hiro, can you check Tooru’s temperature?”

“Uh, sure?” There’s a moment's silence where Matsukawa picks out some socks and underwear for them, waiting for the response. He doesn’t expect for Hanamaki to suddenly enter the room with Tooru wrapped in a towel in his arms and Hajime pottering behind him, dried off but stark naked.

“He’s cold. Really cold. I’m going to call in absent and take him to the doctors-”

“No, I’ll do it.” Hanamaki pauses halfway through pulling Tooru’s nappy on, looking up at Matsukawa in confusion. 

“You said you were covering someone’s shift today, right?”

“W-Well, yeah, I was supposed to, but-”

“Look, Ushijima has Satori. He’ll understand emergency time off due to child sickness.” Hanamaki bites his bottom lip nervously. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to leave Tooru’s side. One of his babies is sick, and he’s scared to leave his side. But Matsukawa speaks sense. Of their bosses, Ushijima is the one more likely to understand toddler emergencies, and give Matsukawa time off. He pulls Tooru’s sweater on and turns to watch Matsukawa help Hajime zip up his trousers.

“... Okay…” The toddlers dressed, they carry them downstairs. Hajime looks a little worried as he watches Tooru, a lot quieter than usual and much less annoying.

“Papa...? Is Tooru okay?” 

“He’s sick, Hajime.”

“Sick?”

“Mhm, he’s got a bad feeling in his belly and he’s very cold.”

“Uh-oh, bad belly is bad.” Matsukawa nods in agreement, letting Hajime down to potter into the kitchen and pick out what he wants from the fruity selection. Hanamaki tucks Tooru into a blanket and lays him on the sofa. He sniffles and coughs, burrowing into the warmth before curling up and closing his eyes. The light is probably hurting his eyes. Kneeling down by the sofa, Matsukawa strokes his soft, fluffy hair and blocks the light streaming through the window for him. With his free hand, he sends Ushijima an important text to let him know the situation. The response is immediate.

_I understand. You will receive sick pay for 3 days and are to update me then. I hope Tooru recovers quickly._

The tone of the message carries the same deadpan kind of voice as his boss, and Matsukawa chuckles. How does one person manage to make their speech patterns so similar to professional texting? He leans back to peer around the arm of the sofa and catches a glimpse of Hanamaki packing a bento box with Hajime’s help, neatly lining the fruit shapes in accordance to colour, it seems. Hajime seems to favour the little duck shapes, whilst he persists that Hanamaki give Tooru _all_ the stars.

For all the arguments they have and how much they seem to dislike each other, Hajime is a good big brother that takes care of Tooru when he needs it. Whether it’s a status thing or legit care, Hanamaki doesn’t know, but it’s nice to think they might actually be getting along. 

“I want- I want a rose.” 

“Yeah? What flavour do you want?”

“Apple!” Hanamaki chuckles and puts the apple rose in Hajime’s bento box, before putting the lid on. Hajime drops a pear circle into Tooru’s box and then copies Hanamaki in plonking the lid on top. Hanamaki smiles at him and Hajime returns the innocent expression with a beaming grin of his own. It’s almost enough to melt through Hanamaki’s worries about Tooru, but instead, his smile wobbles and it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s get you to Yochien.”

“Huh? No Tooru going to Daichi and Yui’s?” Confusion floods Hajime’s face, with a twinge of disappointment. 

“Nu-uh. He’s going to the doctors today.” A surprising and uncharacteristic squeak of fear escapes Hajime as he slaps a hand over his left elbow, eyes wide with fear, like he’s seen _things_. Truthfully, all that’s happened is he freaked out when getting his vaccinations. Hanamaki worries that maybe they’ve given him a bad impression of the doctor's office, and it might be a struggle to get him there if he really needs it...

“N-Not the doctor!” Yep, definitely the wrong impression.

“Hajime, the doctor will make Tooru all better. He’ll stop feeling sick.”

“Nuh! Doctor is bad! She has- uh! Pointy things! Sharp sticks!”

“... Needles?”

“Yeah, those! Sharp needles.” Hajime’s eyes are a little bit wide, a little bit watery, and a little bit _scared_. But he has every right to be scared. Not just because of his background before adoption, but because he’s a child. There was no way Hanamaki was going to invalidate that fear. It was a natural emotion, and he remember his own parents mocking his fear of the dark when he was younger, only leading to a rough few years before someone - A certain Matsukawa Issei - had brought a night-lamp to camp and told him it was okay to be scared. Plus, lava lamps looked really cool.

“It’s okay to be scared, Hajime. Needles are very scary!”

“Yes! Very scary!” With a tender smile, Hanamaki crouches down to eye-level and taps a finger on Hajime’s nose with a quiet ‘boop~’.

“But they’re also really good.”

“They good?”

“Mhm~. Some needles _stop_ you getting bad tummy, and other needles make you feel all better.” The three year old pouts thoughtfully, his expression troubled and confused.

“Then… Tooru needs a needle?” A small laugh escapes Hanamaki and he nuzzles affectionately into Hajime’s forehead, leaving behind a tiny kiss.

“Maybe~. But we’ll find out after the doctors.”

“I dun wanna go to the doctors!”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’ll take you to Yochien. Papa will take Tooru to the doctors.” The fear leaves Hajime’s eyes and his shoulders relax, lips twitching upwards. Hanamaki ruffles his hair before picking up both bento boxes to put in a pre-packed bag. Hold on…

“Issei, where did this book come from?” Matsukawa looks over from the centre of the living room, changing into something - once again - from the ironing pile. Just an old grey shirt and denim trousers. It might not have been the best look, but his main concern was on Tooru, not what he was wearing.

“Book? Oh! That’s the one Akaashi let Hajime burrow.” 

“I guess we never got the chance to read it, huh buddy?” Hajime shakes his head, but he doesn’t look too downcast. Maybe he wasn’t _that_ interested in it.

“Akaashi-senpai can let us borrow again?” The husbands share a glance and shrug before Hanamaki grins at Hajime.

“Sure, why not?” Hajime beams back and jogs off to put on his shoes, taking the pre-packed bag with him. Matsukawa quirks an eyebrow. Usually, Tooru carries the small rucksack on his back, but it might be a struggle for him considering he’s sick. Is Hajime thinking about that?

“I think we’re going to get going, Issei. See you tonight?”

“See you tonight, Taka.” He leans in and presses a gentle, fleeting kiss to his lips, just enough to be a silent ‘I love you’ but not long enough to keep him lingering. Time is of the essence.

“And me!”

“And you, Hajime~!” Matsukawa scoops up his son and holds him close enough to blow a huge, sloppy raspberry on his cheek, making him squeal and erupt into peals of laughter. Tooru makes an agitated, groggy sound and tugs the blanket up to cover his face. Hajime and Matsukawa blinks in his direction in silence for a moment.

“Sowwy, Tooru.” Matsukawa smiles at the whispered apology from Hajime and adds his own on. As soon as he puts Hajime down, the three year old potters over to the front door to put his shoes on, Hanamaki already waiting for him. There’s a moment of silence before the front door opens and then Hajime shouts back - most likely unaware of how loud he is.

“Bye Papa, bye Tooru!” 

“Ah, Hajime, don’t slam the-!” The door slams as Hanamaki obviously hadn't intervened in time to save it, and Tooru whines at the noise echoing in his head. Gently, Matsukawa strokes his head and shushes him, waiting until it seems like Tooru is feeling good enough to poke out from the blankets before speaking.

“Shall we go on a special adventure?”

“Speshal?” 

“Mhm~. Just me and you, yeah? We'll go to a place called _The Clinic_. You can get a lollipop for being a brave adventurer. You wanna do that?” A pale Tooru nods and sits up slowly, rubbing at his tired eyes. Matsukawa rubs his back as he sits up and then kisses his temple gently in silent encouragement. Hanamaki and Hajime did the lunches, so it should be-

Ah. Tooru’s box isn’t on the counter. Sighing and shaking his head with amusement, Matsukawa guesses that Hanamaki must have packed it out of pure routine and muscle memory. Not to worry, there’s plenty of fruit and snacky bits in the fridge that he has time to put together, now Ushijima has given him time off. As he’s arranging small, nutritional items in a spare box that lacks Tooru’s magical girl stickers, the toddler himself waddles into the kitchen. He’s unsteady on his feet and clutches his blanket in front of him insecurely. 

“Papa…”

“What is it baby? What’s wrong?” Tooru’s eyes water up and he whimpers, looking downright pitiful. It tugs on the strings of Matsukawa’s heart and he wishes ever so dearly that he could cure whatever it was with a wave of his hand. It could be a simple cold, or maybe the flu. Either way, Tooru is suffering. He clutches at his belly as he swallows and then whimpers out;

“I- I dun feel good…” That’s all the warning Matsukawa has before Tooru drops to his knees in the middle of the kitchen, caught by Matsukawa’s hands at the last second so that his head didn’t hit the floor.

“Tooru? Tooru!” A surge of panic rises as Matsukawa scoops him up and gently shakes his shoulder. Tooru’s breathing is heavy and laboured, and his fringe is sticking to his forehead with sweat. His little rosy cheeks are deepened with a feverish flush and he shivers. But the scariest thing of all is that he doesn’t respond. 

Tooru is unconscious, and Matsukawa has no idea what to do.


	10. Minutes (2)

In a state of panic, Matsukawa decides to forgo the doctors completely and drives straight to the hospital, Tooru strapped in but limp in the back seat. His skin had turned pale and mottled, but Matsukawa glimpsed over his shoulder at a set of traffic lights and noticed a rash on his collarbone, just peeking above the top of his shirt. Had that shown up on his chest since dressing him? He doesn’t have time to investigate further when the light changes back to blue and he drives on. It isn’t long before he arrives at the hospital, parking as close to Accident & Emergency as he can without violating any rules.

“Come on, Tooru, it’s okay, you’ll be okay…” The toddler whines, not unconscious anymore but still floppy and unresponsive to anything except Matsukawa scooping him up. He jogged across the zebra crossing and into the A&E entrance, looking around frantically for the registration desk. Luckily, it was right by his side and the nurse on duty lingering in the reception immediately picked up on the severity of the situation.

Like a blur, Matsukawa was whisked into the pediatric unit, Tooru gently snatched from his arms and lead down a corridor into a room full of tiny patients. Sinking into a chair next to bed, Matsukawa watched with wide, panicked eyes as Tooru, this tiny little boy with flushed appearance and quiet sobs, was connected up to wires and monitors and drips. He looked sick before, but now… He looks like he’s fighting for his life. Matsukawa covers the bottom half of his face with one hand, the other holding Tooru’s tiny hand, and sobs.

“Excuse me...?” He sits up with a gasp and quickly wipes at his eyes with his sleeve, turning to where the voice had come from. In nurses uniform, is someone he knows and he blinks in surprise. The nurse looks equally surprised.

“Matsukawa-san?! Oh my word, when they said a two year old boy with meningitis, I- I didn’t expect it to be Tooru…” If his eyebrows could officially join his hairline, Matsukawa is pretty sure the would currently be someone on the crown of his head.

“Woah, woah, wait. _Meningitis?_ Suga, I haven’t heard anything that’s going on!” Suga looks away guiltily for a second before stepping up to the tubes connected to Tooru and checking the amounts flowing through them, talking as he does so.

“When he first came in, they suspected him of having meningitis, so we’ve got some antibiotics rigged up to him at the moment, until the test results from his blood sample come back. If it’s bacterial, he might have to stay a few days and we’ll adjust the antibiotics accordingly. If it’s viral, we’ll stop the antibiotics. We’re going to do a CT scan to check for swelling around the brain too.”

“B-Brain swelling?” With a sympathetic expression, Suga nods and puts a hand on Matsukawa’s shoulder.

“It’s possible. But don’t worry, we’ll look after him.” The reassurance has Matsukawa sigh, his shoulders dropping and turning his gaze to the floor. He finds Tooru’s tiny hand against and is surprised when Tooru squeezes it gently. He looked unconscious again. Suga whispers _“He can hear you.”_ as he adjusts the tap on one of the tubes, allowing Tooru to come back to slightly awake, the bare minimum dosage. 

“T-Tooru… Oh god, Tooru… I am so, so sorry. I- I should have known how bad it was. _Meningitis_ , oh my-... I just… Come back to me, Tooru… Come back, p-please…” His voice breaks and quivers, lowering his head so that Tooru’s knuckles brush against his forehead as he sobs into his clasped hands, breath hitching and noise catching in his throat. Frowning, Suga gives them space. It’s hard, working on the pediatric unit. It’s harder when it’s someone he knows. Quickly he walks to the lab.

“Doctor, do you have the results for this patient yet?” He shows Tooru’s file to the doctor on duty and the old woman peers at it for a while before nodding. Suga listens carefully as she tells him, and he sighs in relief, jogging back to Matsukawa and Tooru.

“Matsukawa-san~. I come bearing good news!” Matsukawa sits up, stroking through Tooru’s hair as hazy brown eyes blink at him.

“What is it?”

“Well, firstly it’s a virus that caused this bout of meningitis. And secondly, it’s not as serious as we thought. The fainting is caused by his fever, not the virus. He should be okay to go home tomorrow sometime. Obviously we’re still going to check for brain swelling, and that might change things. I don’t want to give you false hope.” Matsukawa’s shoulders sag in relief and his sigh stutters as he releases a large portion of stress, reaching up to push his fringe back. What was once curly but messy in a cute way was now just a bird's nest. 

Suga doesn’t blame him. It’s not everyday that Tooru collapses. Meningitis is a scary word, and a scarier disease. It could kill in 28 hours, which was exactly why they had put Tooru on antibiotics the second they _suspected_ the killer disease. Now it had been confirmed a virus, Suga turned the antibiotics off. 

“Let’s wheel him through. You can come with me to the hallway, but not inside I’m afraid.”

“That’s- That’s fine. I can… I can do that. He’ll be okay?”

“He’ll be okay. I’ll be with him the whole time.” That seems to ease up Matsukawa’s concerns, but he’s still anxious. Of course he is! There’s no way he’d be calm in this situation and honestly, Suga would be more worried if he was! Before he can say anything, a doctor pokes their head round the curtain.

“Nurse, please prep the patient for CT. We’re ready.” Suga nods, taking on a professional aura. This is the moment of truth, where they’ll find out if Tooru is suffering from brain swelling as well as his his fever and nausea. The hospital bed is prepared, and Suga stands behind it to wheel it out whilst another nurse takes the front, making sure they don’t crash into anyone coming out from around a corner. Matsukawa jogs alongside them, never letting go of his son’s hand, Tooru’s grip weak but desperate. 

He wants his Papa.

He needs his Papa. He needs a hug, he needs a kiss, he needs to nap right next to him, and he just generally needs to be loved. This is the worst Tooru’s ever felt - that he can remember - and he just wants to cry, if his sore, aching body would let him. It hurts. Everything hurts and he’s dizzy and tired, but he doesn’t want to sleep because he needs to know Papa is there.

The bright lights of the hospital ceiling flash as he’s hurried down the corridors and Tooru whines and he closes his eyes, feeling sicker at every bright beam. He doesn’t like the smell either. It’s weird. He remembers when he put a plastic bag over his head as a funny hat and Papa told him off for it. The smell makes him feel bad.

“I’m sorry, Matsukawa-san. You’ll have to wait out here.”

“M-Mhm. Please look after him, Suga.” Tooru feels a slight tug on his hand, Matsukawa trying to pull his own away. Warm tears drip slowly from Matsukawa’s eyes and splash onto their joint hands as Tooru clings on tighter with a whine. 

“P-Papa…”

“Come on baby, you have to let go…”

“N-nuu… Papa…” Tooru’s tiny hand manages to tightly grasp two of Matsukawa’s fingers and he’s refusing to let go, both desperate and hurt. He doesn’t want to let go! Papa has to stay!

“Tooru, please.” Matsukawa manages to pull his hand away and his heart clenches painfully at the look of upset _betrayal_ in Tooru’s expression.

“Pap-pa…! D-Dun go! I scared! Papa!” His weak cries disappear behind two heavy doors, and Matsukawa catches Suga’s apologetic gaze before the door to the room close and Matsukawa is left standing alone in a suddenly too-quiet hallway. His fingers tremble and his breath quivers and he finds himself sinking into a chair to wait, head in hands with his fingers stressfully wrapped around curls of hair.

His two year old is getting a _brain scan_ and there’s nothing he can do.  
The minutes tick by and he counts every single one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~

“Fuwa fuwa~, fluffy bunny, fat cat, fuwa fuwa~!” Hanamaki chuckles as he walks alongside Hajime, the three year old pointing up at the clouds and singing quietly. He’s smiling and his cheeks are rosy red, hopping every couple of steps to jump over cracks in the pavement. 

“Papa, look! That one’s a- a squirrel!” Hanamaki gasps in amazement and crouches down next to Hajime to look up at where he’s pointing.

“Which one?” 

“That one! The little one!”

“Oh, you’re right! It must be a baby squirrel, if it’s so little.” Hajime pouts in thought, tilting his head to the side.

“Where’s papa squirrel?” 

“Papa squirrel… Uh… Is at work! See, baby squirrel is having playtime at Yochien.” 

“Ohh… Like me at playtime?” Hanamaki nods with a grin which makes Hajime shyly laugh into his hands, before pointing out other clouds. He’s so excited, he’s starting to babble a little bit, slipping back into bad habits he formed when he was learning to speak. Gently, Hanamaki repeats back the sentences with mistakes in them, correcting those bad habits in a way that Hajime barely notices. 

As the Yochien approaches, Hajime gets quieter and clings to Hanamaki’s leg. Hanamaki slows his walk, looking down at him in concern. The boy looks around like he’s searching for something. 

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Can’t go.”

“Hmm? Go?”

“Yo’ien. Can’t go.” Frowning worriedly, Hanamaki drops down to one knee so that Hajime is still clinging to his lower leg whilst also being eye-level. 

“Can you tell me why not?”

“Cus Papa- No Papa… Uh… Have to say baibai to Papa ‘fore Yo’ien. An’ Papa not here. No Yo’ien.” Hanamaki makes a sound of understanding and scoops Hajime into his arms. 

“Let’s tell Akaashi-senpai then, shall we?”

“Mhm. Ask bu’wo book.” Carrying Hajime in his arms is no big deal since Hanamaki is used to it. It’s been almost two years since Hajime first came into their life, and once he realised no one was going to hurt him, he had been clingy to the point of being mistaken for a koala. Matsukawa had been reluctant to let him be constantly attached to them, wanting Hajime to branch out to others as well, but Hanamaki was a weak man who loved cuddles. Henceforth, he was now very used to carting the three year old around, no matter how much he grew.

Secretly, Hanamaki hoped Hajime would always be his clingy little baby. Tooru was starting to already grow out of the phrase, preferring to be running around or getting into mess and mischief. Ah, the terrible twos. Now would be the perfect time to develop eyes in the back of his head.

“Good morning, Hanamaki-san, Hajime.” 

“Morning, Akaashi~.” Instead of returning the greeting, Hajime buries his face in Hanamaki’s shoulder, his fists balling in the material of Hanamaki’s shirt.

“Ah, I see. Bakery today?”

“Yeah, he’s not really up to sitting in a classroom. He says it’s because Issei isn’t here to say goodbye to… But I think it’s something else _as well_.” Akaashi’s brows furrow together in confusion and concern.

“Something else?” Hanamaki bites at his bottom lip, unintentionally dropping his head low with a defeated expression. His voice is quiet when he speaks.

“Tooru isn’t feeling well. Issei stayed behind to look after him, but… I think Hajime is worries about them.”

“M’not.” The grumpy little denial from Hanamaki’s shoulder is warbled and wobbly, like Hajime is on the verge of tears. With a sigh, Hanamaki rubs his back until a whine follows, and then a sob. Akaashi gently takes the rucksack from Hanamaki’s free arm so he can comfort Hajime better, hugging him properly and swaying from side to side to imitate a rocking motion.

“It’s okay, Hajime. It’s okay… Papa and Tooru will be okay… They’re at home, waiting for us.”

“I- I wanna go home!” He cries a little harder and Hanamaki’s face crumples because he can feel the agony in his words, like Hajime is really suffering and hurting. Akaashi seems to have picked up on it too, because he guides them into the office for peace and quiet, away from the prying eyes of other parents and children arriving at the Yochien. In the middle of the silent room, Hajime calms down, rubbing his face into Hanamaki’s shirt.

“Good boy, good boy… Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Hurts…” For a split second, Hanamaki freezes. Hajime isn’t sick too, is he?

“What hurts?”

“Nothing…” 

“... Nothing?”

“Mhm. Jus’ hurts.” It’s not the kind of hurt that can be described, Hanamaki realises. It’s not a physical ache or pain. It’s emotional. There’s a weight on Hajime’s heart and he’s worrying himself sick. Hanamaki pats and rubs his back soothingly, murmuring soft words of comfort. 

“Why don’t we ring Papa and talk to them, hm?”

“Ring ring?”

“Mhm~.” Hajime nods and wipes at his face with his sleeves, doing little more than just smearing snot and tears around. Hanamaki pulls a face before huffing out a laugh, placing Hajime on the floor and pulling a tissue out his back pocket.

“Let’s clean you up first.” He wipes Hajime’s face clean and pinches the tissue over his nose for the three year old to blow into with gusto. Then, Hanamaki bins the tissue and pulls out his phone. 

“And… Here we go.” He passes the phone to Hajime and the toddler holds it to his ear, waiting. His free hand picks at skin on his lips until Hanamaki holds it gently in his own, swinging their arms very lightly. Hajime’s brow furrows and his pout deepens.

“Please leave a message, beeeeep?”

“Ah. Let’s- Let’s try again.” A little bit confused, Hanamaki’s panic spikes further. Matsukawa always answers his phone. Matsukawa _always_ answers Hanamaki. He breathes out shakily and redials the number. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Fou-

_“Hi, sorry! Are you- Are you okay?”_

“I am, but what about you?! You always answer first time!” There’s an uneasy pause. 

“... Issei?”

_“Y-Yeah. I-... ‘Hiro, I had to bring Tooru to hospital.”_

“What?!” Sensing trouble, Akaashi guides Hajime out the room and calls for another teacher to sit with him whilst he makes sure Hanamaki is okay. Sure, he might be a teacher for the children, but it’s also part of his job to make sure the parents are okay too. Not to mention the close friendship he has with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. Above all, that’s why he feels like he needs to be here for him right now.

“He fainted…? Meningitis? A brain scan?! Hold on- Issei, wait! I can’t- I can’t take this all in at once! Please just… Is he going to be okay…?” Another pause. Then, Hanamaki sighs with relief. 

“Bless Suga. But you’re sure he’s going to be okay? … Alright, I- I’ll try to tell Hajime… I love you. Be safe. ...Mhm, see you later.” The phone call ends and Akaashi darts forwards to catch him as his legs give way.

“Hanamaki-san!” It’s only a split second that his legs are spaghetti for, and he quickly recovers to stand up straight again, murmuring a thanks to Akaashi for catching him. That does nothing to soothe over Akaashi’s internal panic, having overheard the phone conversation and witnessed Hanamaki just… _Falling_ like that. Like he’d been struck by bullets.

“Sit down, I’ll grab you something to drink.”

“S-sure. Um… Could you- Could you give me a moment? And- And maybe let me talk- talk to Hajime?” Sympathetically, brow furrowed in concern and stress wrinkling the corners of his eyes, Akaashi squeezes Hanamaki’s shoulder in support and agreement.

“Of course.” He makes sure Hanamaki is sitting in the office chair before he leaves, but he doesn’t miss the way Hanamaki’s shoulders sag and his fingers knot painfully in his hair. He looks tired and hurt and suddenly appears years older. Slipping out the door, Akaashi finds that Hajime is still standing perfectly still in the corridor, despite the teacher he asked to supervise him trying their best to interact with Hajime. Akaashi excuses them with a gentle wave of his hand and a polite bow of gratitude. 

It’s only when the office door clicks shut that Hajime turns to slowly look up at Akaashi, and the Yochien teacher is shocked to see how blank his gaze is. It’s like… It’s like he’s shut the world out. 

“Hajime…?” The child blinks and a small spark of awareness lights up in them, but he’s still worryingly distant. 

“Sen… Sei…” Akaashi nods and kneels on the ground, opening his arms for Hajime to slowly lean into and rest his head against Akaashi’s shoulder as he’s hugged gently and supportively. Akaashi rubs his back and waits until the tension ebbs out of Hajime’s tiny body.

“Shh… What’s wrong, Hajime?”

“Gone… All gone…” 

“Gone?”

“Mhm. Papa ‘n’ Tooru. Gone.” Akaashi is blatantly confused, but as he draws back to look Hajime in the eyes, a haunted expression of grief and loss - emotions beyond his age comprehension - overshadowing them, he shapes his expression into calmness, not wanting to scare Hajime with any signs of uncertainty. 

“Where do you think they’ve gone?”

“Dunno.”

“ _Why_ do you think they’re gone?” Hajime stares at him like he’s an idiot for not understanding, and for once, Akaashi feels like the smaller one. How can a young child’s gaze make him feel so… Belittled? 

“Because they went to hospital!”

“Y-Yes? They went to hospital to get better.”

“No! No hospital! Hospital- hospital take you away! And- and puts you with Papa’s who love you more! So- So you _never_ want to go back! They won’t want to come back!” Hajime bursts into tears, face messy and scrunched up in agonizing distress and Akaashi gasps. 

Of _course_ Hajime doesn’t understand. He only has one experience of hospital, a traumatic memory that seems to have been recalled at the sheer mention of hospital. He thinks he’s losing Matsukawa and Tooru. He thinks they’re going somewhere where they’ll never want to come back. 

Because that’s exactly what happened to him.

He was taken from his ‘home’ - from an abusive household, which he doesn’t seem to understand - by social services and sent directly to hospital to be treated. From there, he was introduced to Matsukawa and Hanamaki, and once he had healed to a minimum standard physically _and_ mentally, he was taken to live with them, his new parents.

“Hajime… Oh, Hajime, it’s not like that, I promise… Tooru and Matsuk- Uh, Papa will come home soon.” The three year old wipes at his eyes and just shakes his head, but Akaashi knows he’s listening. Hajime has always been a good listener. 

“When- When someone goes to hospital, they get medicine, to get better and stop being sick. And they- They’re looked after. Hajime… You were so loved and cared for, they took you away from the bad people. They would have hurt you again, wouldn’t they?”

“M-Mhm.” The speed with which he answers is concerning, because although they know he was hurt badly, not even the social workers know exactly what happened or how frequently it occurred.

“Were you scared a lot?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you- Do you think Papa and Tooru are scared at home?”

“.... Nu-uh.” Akaashi smiles softly as he pulls a tissue from his apron to wipe Hajime’s eyes and nose.

“Then, they’ll come back. People go to hospital, and come home to those they love. Your Papa and Tooru love you and Han- _Papa_ very much.” It’s a little confusing to refer to both Matsukawa and Hanamaki as Papa, but Akaashi has to make the switch for Hajime to understand. Green eyes blink and Hajime tilts his head.

“Love bring them home?”

“Yes, that’s right. Love brings them home.” Hajime takes a deep breath in and steps back from Akaashi, his fists balling up with determination in front of his chest and his eyes scrunched closed. For a moment, Akaashi is worried he’s going to burst into wails again. 

“I LOVE PAPA _AND_ TOORU AND THEY SHOULD COME HOME PLEASE!” The office door re-opens as a teary eyed Hanamaki jolts out, a little shocked and surprised.

“Hajime, what-?!” Hajime looks up at him with steely determination, little fists clenched as if that’ll make his every wish come true.

“I said it, Papa! I said I loved them, so the hospital will send them back!” Hanamaki chokes on a tearful sob before he crouches down, scooping Hajime into his arms.

“That’s right, Hajime… That’s right. They’ll come home b-because they love you.”

“Mhm! It’s a promise of the universe, and if it doesn’t come true, I’ll build a shark to eat it! Boom, bai bai Universe.” Hanamaki smiles, not knowing where Hajime got that ridiculous idea from, but it’s sweet. He’s so assured that Tooru will be okay, he’s willing to threaten the existence of life itself. It’s endearing, in a strange kind of way, but he is only three years old.

“It’ll come true. They’ll come home.”

And Hanamaki will count every minute until they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, should I start next chapter with Tooru or Hajime? (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)


	11. Colours and cookies.

It’s a relief for Matsukawa when Tooru comes out the scan room, and Suga gives him a thumbs up with a grin. No brain swelling. He would have fallen to his knees in gratitude had Tooru not cried out for him again. Instantly, Matsukawa had jogged to his side, holding one on Tooru’s hands tightly and pressing soft kisses on his knuckles.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re okay. Papa’s here, you’re okay.” Tooru whines. He is _not_ okay, what is Papa _saying_? His tummy hurts, his head hurts, even his toes hurt! He wriggles them to make sure they’re still there, because he can’t see them through the boring white blanket.

“Papa, papa, wan’ colouring…”

“Hm? You want to do some colouring?”

“Mhm! Too much white!” Suga giggles a little, pointing to himself

“Don’t you like my hair, Tooru~?” Tooru pouts, feeling much more lively as his medication takes affect. Tilting his head to the side, he points one hand at Suga’s hair and another at the bedcover.

“Su-chan’s hair isn’t white. It’s grey like old people.” Matsukawa quickly claps a hand over his mouth, though it does nothing to hide his massive snort of amusement. Sugawara deadpan stares at the two year old, but when Tooru giggles, he can’t stay agitated.

“It’s _silver_ , like expensive things~.” Tooru’s eyes widen, looking completely awed.

“Is- Is my hair e-esspesive too?!” Suga pauses to think hard, tapping his lip in deep thought.

“Mhm! Like Amelie chocolat!” 

“Papa, Papa, that true? Am I cho’olate?” Matsukawa chuckles, pressing his cheek lovingly to his sons.

“Of course, Tooru. You can be whatever you want to be.”

“Can I be… Green?”

“Of course~.”

“What- What about… Umm… Can I be… Super tall!?”

“Only if you eat your veggies.” Tooru suddenly gasps, pulling the hospital blanket up to his chest as his eyes _sparkle_. His voice is little above a whisper of amazement.

“Can I be a Magi Girl?” Matsukawa and Sugawara laugh in unison, Tooru’s enthusiasm being impossible to ignore. Suga sets about with detaching all the tubes and lines whilst Matsukawa ruffles Tooru’s hair and leans in, pressing their foreheads and noses together.

“You can be the greatest Magi Girl the world has ever seen.”

“I’ll be a _purple_ Magi Girl, cus that’s the secondest best Magi Girl.”

“Second best?”

“Mhm! The pink Magi Girl is always the best! The strongest and the smartest!” Matsukawa softly laughs, running his hand through Tooru’s hair to keep him calm as Suga removes the tap from his hand. The truth is, Matsukawa knows very little about Magi Girls. But it’s something Tooru is excited about and interested in, so he’ll do everything he can to indulge his son.

“Purple, huh? I think it suits you~.”

“Thanks, Papa!”

“What colour do you think I’d be?”

“Hmm… Yellow!”

“Yellow?” Tooru nods, lifting his tiny hands and tangling them in Matsukawa’s curly hair.

“Yellow Magi Girl always has the prettiest hair.” Matsukawa laughs heartily, throwing his head back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“I think _Papa_ has prettier hair than me.” He’s surprised to suddenly see Tooru pout, jutting his lip out angrily.

“Nu-uh. Papa is green Magi Girl. They’re always the kindest and most musical!”

“Pfft~. You’re right, Papa is kind and sweet and _very_ musical~.” Screeching in the shower and squawking along to the radio extremely off-tune was definitely Hanamaki’s thing. But he was also kind and sweet, just as Matsukawa said. Hanamaki had always been softer and shyer, but he wouldn’t be Hanamaki without those traits. Matsukawa loved every part of him, with all his heart, until the end of time. Perhaps, even beyond.

“Matsukawa-san.” Sugawara pokes his shoulder and he’s suddenly aware that he must be making a horrifically sappy face. He clears his throat as Suga smirks, trying to will away the blush.

“S-So how is he?” Suga beams with a thumbs up.

“Ready to go! Remember to keep him hydrated, don’t leave him alone too long, and make sure he rests. You’ll want to keep the room dim but not entirely black, and probably have some quiet music on in the background. Something smooth with no ‘peaks’. Also, no staring at digital screens until tomorrow.”

“But- but I wanna watch Magi Girl!”

“Tooru, you heard what Suga-san said.” The nurse nods, gently taking one of Tooru’s tiny hands.

“You’ll feel better if you do as you’re told.” Tooru puffs out his cheeks, but he nods. Matsukawa sighs in relief. Sometimes, it’s hard to get Tooru to cooperate when he wants to watch TV. But he must be feeling really terrible if he’s obeying without a tantrum. 

“Alright, buddy, let’s get you home.” Tooru clings on when Matsukawa scoops him up, snuggling into his shoulder.

“Papa, my head hurts…”

“Yeah? It’s okay, you’ll feel better soon.”

“M’kaaay.” He yawns, burying his face deeper in Matsukawa’s shirt, and smiling when his Papa rubs his back comfortingly. He babbles endlessly about Magi Girls and chocolates and fruit shapes until he suddenly stops mid-sentence, drawling off at the start of a word.

“Tooru?” There’s no answer, and Matsukawa cranes his neck as he signs them out at reception to see Tooru’s eyes closing and feel his breathing evening out. He smiles gently, making sure his stride is smooth and slightly rocks his baby boy.

Tooru is asleep before they’ve even left the hospital, Matsukawa strapping him into his carseat with a teddy as a pillow. He plays the radio on the lowest volume, cruising along just within the speed limit and being extra careful when it comes to braking. He doesn’t want to cause any more harm to Tooru, whatsoever.

Two years old and he’d already had meningitis. Matsukawa sighed, shaking his head. Poor Tooru. He just hoped this meant he was immune now.

~

Across the other side of town, Hanamaki walked into the bakery through the back door, Hajime tightly clinging onto his leg. He’d insisted on being put carried only halfway, and then he wanted to walk. Of course, at some point, that had changed to clinging to Hanamaki’s leg so tightly, he was practically being carried anyways.

“Alright, bubba, time for work~.”

“M’kay…” He hesitantly lets go of Hanamaki’s leg, but reaches up and clings to his hand instead as he’s led into the staff room. Hanamaki calls out a good morning, knowing that there’ll at least be _one_ straggler still changing into uniform. He’s proved correct as Terushima leans around a wall and chirps a good morning back, before he sees Hajime.

“ _Hajime_! My favourite little helper! You come to decorate some sugar cookies with me~?” Usually, Hajime would respond with equal enthusiasm, giggling and clapping his hands with loud agreement, instantly flying to Terushima’s side to be given sugar cookies to decorate. They were only the few that weren’t high quality enough to sell, but Hajime didn’t seem to mind if they were slightly overcooked or small.

Today, however, Hajime shrinks away from Terushima’s bright energy, hiding behind Hanamaki’s leg with his eyes cast to the floor. Hanamaki frowns, putting a gentle, reassuring hand on Hajime’s head. Terushima blinks, his grin melting into a worried, wobbly frown.

“Sorry, Teru. He’s not up to that today.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Maybe later?” Hajime shrugs. Terushima stands up straight again, rubbing the back of his head.

“I’ll set some cookies aside in case you feel like it, but it’s totally chill to have a resting day.”

“Thanks, Teru.” Hanamaki offers him a grateful smile, Terushima squeezing his shoulder encouragingly before he darts off to the kitchen area for the first batch of sugar cookies. Hanamaki moves to his staff locker, getting his uniform out and changing quickly. He’s not sure how long Hajime can bear to be without some form of physical reassurance when he’s this upset.

A sniffle answers his unspoken question with _‘not very long’_. Crouching down Hanamaki wordlessly opens his arms, and Hajime toddles into them. He doesn’t cry. He’s upset, but he doesn’t cry. Instead, he clings on tightly as Hanamaki scoops him up.

“It’s okay, Hajime. Papa and Tooru will come home, I promise.”

“M-Mhm.” He hiccups, his little chubby hands grasping the back of Hanamaki’s shirt tightly. With a silent sigh, Hanamaki pats Hajime’s back. He’s trying too hard to be strong when he’s so young, when it’s crucial that he lets it out instead of bottling it up for later - like Hanamaki is doing.

“You wanna sit in the office with the twins?” 

“Mhm.” He sounds much more firm in his answer, and the corners of Hanamaki’s lips twitch upwards. If anything, the twins will definitely wrangle him into a better mood. The owners of this bakery branch - a gift from their parents to get used to owning a business - the Miya twins spend most of their days in the office sorting through finances and personnel.

Atsumu might grumble about how he hates children, but he’s a real softy under that hard exterior, as long as the child is well behaved. Just like Hajime, thank goodness. He’s always the one who acts tough in front of others, but Hajime has many, many stories of how Atsumu always plays with him and makes him laugh and comes up with games.

Osamu is much quieter, but also more open. He’s shy around people he doesn’t know, but a reliable friend to those he does. He’s also a very calming personality. If Hajime is ever getting too loud or boisterous, Osamu is the one who steps in and brings him down. He’s currently teaching Hajime numbers, as well as little tricks to play on Atsumu.

“Okay, let’s see if they’ll let you sit with them.” Hanamaki softly hums as he carries Hajime up the stairs to the office, trying to soothe him as much as he can in the little time he has left before his shift starts. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the office door.

“Come in.” Osamu looks up as Hanamaki enters, whilst Atsumu growls at his computer screen, one hand tapping the desk in frustration and the other digging his nails into his palms. The quieter of the twins sighs at his brother’s rudeness and offers a faint smile.

“Hanamaki-san. Hajime.” When Hajime doesn’t reply, the smile fades as rapidly as he put it on. He directs his gaze to Hanamaki, noting how _stressed_ he looks, the tightness around his eyes and the slight redness to them, the tension in his forced, polite smile, and the weariness all over his expression.

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s been… A rough morning.”

“Not as rough as these spreadsheets…” Atsumu hasn’t look up at them yet, still angry at the said worksheets he’s trying to complete. Osamu whips his gaze over to his brother, snapping sharply.

“Atsumu.” The harsh bark of his name makes Atsumu finally look up, his fringe falling centre before he quickly brushes it back.

“Oh! Hey, Hajime! Hanamaki-san. Whassup?” Hanamaki huffs out a bitter sound of amusement, his shoulders drooping. 

“Too much to explain before shift. Would you…?” He bumps Hajime in his arms and Osamu nods, getting up from his desk to take the three-year-old into his own arms, sitting back down with Hajime on his lap.

“Thanks. I owe you.” Atsumu grins, looking slightly devious in the blue light of his computer screen.

“Overtime on Friday?”

“Umm… Maybe not this week? I can do anytime next week though.” Atsume nods, gesturing for Osamu to get to work, pulling up the file with all their employees shifts marked down.

“Can you do… Next Wednesday 9 until 6?” Hanamaki mutters under his breath as he tries to think of anything he’s got planned, and realises that the Wednesday is perfect. He nods with a grin, and Osamu quickly adds him to the register.

“You can go now, Hanamaki-san.” He bows politely, giving Hajime a little wave before he backs out of the office. As soon as the door is closed, he heaves a mighty sigh and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands.

What a mess. What a _mess_. Tooru in hospital and Hajime in distress, and Hanamaki starting to feel the pressures add up. But there’s no time for that. He has work to do. Sculpting his expression into customer mode - worthy of an Oscar - he walks back down the stairs and into the store area.

“Morning, Makki, my man.” Kuroo is already working the till, perched on the tall chair that leaves his legs just brushing the ground if he tilts his foot downwards. Hanamaki huffs in amusement, moving to check the stocks of the display cabinet. 

“Morning, Kuroo-cat. Got any juicy info today?” Ever the _gossip_ , Kuroo grins and twists on the chair excitedly to face Hanamaki.

“Do I _ever_? Okay, so, you remember the absolute _snake_ who used to live down the street from me?”

“Suguru? Yes, I remember, considering you never stop bitching about him.”

“Psh, he deserved it. Well, he’s moving _back_.” Hanamaki raises an eyebrow, pausing in counting the fruit tarts to glance over his shoulder at Kuroo.

“You sound way too excited about it to be true. I thought you _hated_ Suguru with a passion.” Kuroo waves a flippant hand around, as if to bat the words away.

“Okay, yes I do, but listen to this; He’s _married_ now, and they have a son.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! He’s Yuuki’s age too!” Kuroo seems like he’s ready to burst into confetti and sunshine, an overjoyed dork with the hairstyle to match. Hanamaki snorts at the thought, but he’s truly happy for Kuroo. His son, Yuuki, got sick very easily and frequently, meaning he didn’t get to go to playgroups for other babies, or meet many others. He was slightly older than Tadashi, and whilst the two _had_ met, it was much too long a drive for an easily distressed baby. Hopefully, Suguru and Kuroo would put their past rivalry aside for the sake of their sons.

“So, you know the name of their kid?”

“Yeah, I ran into Mika - his wife - at the local market. Kuguri is remarkably cute, considering he has that snake’s genetics.” Hanamaki laughs, even as he notes down the supplies they need more of on a scrap of paper.

“You’re so easy to read, Kuroo! C’mon man, leave the grudges in the past. You never know, Suguru could be a good friend if you get to know him.” Kuroo grumbles, resting his elbows either side of the till and putting his chin in his hands.

“Oh, I know that devil, believe me. You can put a penny in vinegar to get rid of the mould, but that doesn’t change it into a diamond.” There’s a full minute of silence as Hanamaki makes an indescribable face at Kuroo that basically translates into _‘the fuck?’_.

“Where _do_ you get these idioms from?”

“Usually; internet. But that one’s an original. Trademarked. Copyrighted. No stealing.”

“Right, okay. Because I would _obviously_ want to use those specific words in that nonsense order.” Kuroo throws both his hands into the air in mock rage as Hanamaki saunters past, on his way to the kitchen to inform them of what they need to fill the display cabinet.

“You wound me, sir! That’s a _brilliant_ idiom! I’ll be quoted in every newspaper one day!”

“Keep dreaming, you hopeful bastard.”

“Hey! That’s _Mr_.Hopeful Bastard to you!” Somehow, just somehow, Hanamaki feels okay again. As he lets out a laugh from the depths of his belly, he doesn’t feel as crushed under the pressure or as distressed as he was when he first came in. Of course he’s worried about Tooru, but Kuroo makes it feel like everything’s going to be okay.

The kitchen door is heavy enough that Hanamaki has to shoulder it open, but it’s worth the effort when a _wave_ of fragrance washes over him. God, he loves the smell of the bakery kitchen. It’s so sweet and fruity and perfect. 

The cookie decorating counter is closest, so Hanamaki leans against the wall just off to the side and waits for Terushima to return from the cupboard where the piping bags are stored. Within seconds, Terushima returns with a box full of nibs and Hanamaki mock salutes him.

“Hey, Teru, got you a list of things that need baking.”

“Nice! I’ll take ‘em to Aone, you get back out front! We’re bound to have the school kids coming in soon!”

“Think Kuroo would kill me if I left him to deal with it alone?” Terushima snorts, followed by cackles that are surprisingly endearing, considering they’re… Well… Cackles.

“He just might! Go get your butt out there, earn yourself some extra cash!” With a soft laugh, Hanamaki passes over the list for Terushima to run further back in the kitchen, and leaves for the front counter. Sure enough, the early morning school students are coming in for breakfast treats, or packaged items they can keep for lunch. Terushima’s first batch of sugar cookies are selling almost too fast to keep up, but thankfully, there’s already a batch of Aone’s melon pan, milk bread, and Dorayaki to keep up with the flow of students wanting something sweet.

Hanamaki settles into the flow of work, just looking forwards to returning home and hopefully seeing his two year old happy and smiling and _healthy_ again.


End file.
